*LIFE  OF 

James  "W^.  Jackson, 

THE   ALEXANDRIA   HERO, 

AND   THE 

SLAYER  OF  ELLSWORTH. 


- 


* 


LI  IF  IE 


OF 


JAMES  W.  JACKSON", 


THE  ALEXANDRIA  HERO. 


THE  SLAYER  OF  ELLSWORT 


THE    FIRST 


MARTYR  IN  THE  CAUSE  OF  SOUTHERN  INDEPENDENCE 


containing 


A    FULL    ACCOUNT   OF    THE     CIRCUMSTANCES   OK     III:-    HEROIC     DEATH,    AND    THE    MANY 

NCIDENT8   IN    HIS    EVENTFUL    LIFff,    CONSTITUTING    A    TRUE    HIS-       *  . 

TORY,    MORE    LIKE    ROMANCE    THAN    REALITY. 


PUBLISHED  FOR  THE  BENEFIT  OF  HIS  FAMILY 


RICHMOND: 
W EST   &    JOHNSTON 

145    MAIN    STREET. 
1802. 


.- 


t 


MACFARIiANK    &    FrwottkroN*    PwcVl'Sw^ 


y 


ft.     fr.  a^o 


^9-^ 


Tfe 


rf  31" 


PREFATORY. 


tf  any  explanation  may  be  necessary  by  the  author  of  .a  work   so  e 
proper  as   this,  of  the    hopes    which   have   induced   its   publication,    it   is  all 
happily  contained  in  the  following  letter: 

Virginia  Senate  Chamber.  Fcb'y  5*/i,   181  I 
('apt.  . 

Bear  Sir  : 

I  have  examined  with  care  the  manuscript  of  the  life  of  my  kite 
brother-in-law,  James  W.  Jackson,  which  you  have  submitted  to  me.     I  iind 
thai  you  have  portrayed  graphically  and  truthfully  the  many  stirring 
in  his  truly  wonderful  career.  > 

Satisfied   that   the   many  acts  of  daring  and   self-sacrificing  devotion  I 
holy  cause'which  adorned  the   closing   scenes  of  my  brother's  life  will  be,  lo 
our  Southern  youth,  an   inspiration  to  lire  their  zeal-;  trusting   that  the  tl 
to  know  them,  among  our  people,  may  prove  of  benefit  to  his  stricken  family; 
and  convinced  of  its  necessity  as  a  matter  of  public  history,  I  heartily  approve 
of  the  publication  of  your  work,  and  wish  you  every  success. 
Yours  very  truly, 

•       HENRY  W.  THOMAS. 

Representative  •-24///  Senatorial  District. 


I 

■ 


TO  THE  FAMILY 

Of  the  Hero  whose  devoted  life  and  dea-th 

These-  pages  commemorate, 

Bowed    in    sorrow  at    hi- 

But 

Covered   with  the  glory  he   has  bequeathed  them, 

By  his  fearless  self-sacrifice 

On    the    altar  of  his    Country. 

This  memorial 

Of  the  fame  which  lives  eternally  in  his  death 

IS    IiESrECTFULLY    DEDICATED. 


Shoui,  Shout  his  deed  of  glory. 
Tell  it  in  son;;  and  story; 
Tell   it  where  soldiers  brave 
Rush  tearless  to  their  grave; 
Tell  it — a  magic  spell 
In  that  great  deed  shall   dwell.' 


LIFE  OF  JAMES  W.  JACKSON. 


The  name  of  James  William  Jackson  is,  perhaps,  at  this 
time,  as  widely  celebrated  throughout  the  Confederate  and  the 
United  States,  as  that  of  any  man,  either  living  or  dead.  In 
the  one  country  he  is  anathematized,  villified  and  detested  as 
the  assassin  of  a  gallant  soldier :  in  the  other  he  is  lauded  as  a 
hero,  love<l  for  his  devotion  to  the  flag  of  his  country,  and  the 
terrible  determination  with  which  he  defended  it,  and  glorified 
as  the  first  martyr  in  the  cause  to  which  the  blood  of  all  her 
true  sons  is  pledged.  We  will  not  discuss  the  question  of  their 
disagreement  here,  nor  interrupt  the  regular  course  of  our 
history  by  showing,  (until  the  circumstances  of  the  deed  for 
which  he  suffered  death  shall  themselves  make  it  evident,  in 
the  order  of  their  narration,)  how  utterly  false  and  unjust  is 
the  light  in  which  the  North  profess  to  regard  that  deed,  and 
how  absurd  the  application  to  it  of  the  name  of  ''assassina- 
tion." ' 

Certainly  no  man  ever  acquired  fame  more  quickly  than  he, 
and  certainly  no  achievement  ever  won  it  more  desperately 
daring  than  his.  Almost  before  his  corpse  was  cold,  the  story 
of  his  triumph  and  his  fall  had  thrilled  through  the  land,  on 
lightning  wings,  and  he  was  cursed  in  Boston,  Philadelphia  and 
New  Yorkj  as  the  unprincipled  and  mad  destroyer  of  him*  who 
was  the  glory  and  boast  of  their  chivalry,  and  bewept  in 
Charleston,  Montgomery  and  New  Orleans,  as  the  glorio.us  and 
high-spirited  type  of  Southern  gallant^,  prompt  to  avenge  in- 
sulted honoi>  and  ready*  to  die  rather  than  submit  to  the  inso- 
lence of  wanton  and  lawless  invasion. 

The  circumstances  were  such  as  had  not  their  parallel  in 
history,  and  were  invested  with  all  the  surroundings  of  interest 
that  could  bind  to  their  contemplation  the  minds  of  men.  A 
mighty  political  revolution  was  looming  blackly  up  to  the  view. 


10  LIFE    OF 

A  great  nation  was  careening  on  the  brink  of  a  terrible  preci- 
pice, and  the  breath  hushed,. and  the  heart  beat  quick  in  antici- 
pation of  the  crash  of  the'  downfall  which  no  arm  could  stay, 
save  that  of  one  man.  He,  not  realizing  his  splendid  opportu- 
nity, deaf  to  imploring  entreaties,  and  blinded  by  his  unholy 
lusts,  saw  not  nor  heard  the  premonitions  of  ruin.  Two  mighty 
peoples  were  sternly  preparing  their  powers  for  the  shock  of 
battle,  and  the  dreadful  arbitrament  of  law.  They  were  bro- 
thers, they  had  been  friends;  they  were  joint-tenants  of  a  val- 
uable property,  their  heritage  from  ancestors  who  had  paid  for 
its  rescue  from  the  misrule  of  tyranny,  the  priceless  ransom  of 
heroic  blood. 

But  the  one  had  forgotten  their  fathers'  story,  and  wished  to 
practice  upon  the  other  that  very  despotism  which  their  all  had 
been  pledged  to  overthrow,  and  against  which  their  solemn 
denunciations  were  hurled  in  life,  and  bequeathed  in  death. 
Envy  of  their  brothers  had  possessed  their  hearts,  and  com- 
mencing, in  revilings  and  cruel  accusations,  $he  exhibition  of  its 
rancor,  had  pursued  its  impious  course  through  every  labyrinth 
of  injury,  culminated  in  violence  and  bloodshed,  and  crowned  its 
aggressions  with  threats  of  still  more  fearful  significance  even 
than  the  tenor  of  their  fratricidal  deeds.  The  other  had  warned 
them  of  the  tendency  of  their  course,  and  wearied  out  with  the 
remonstrances  of  years,  their  hopes  of  a  final  cessation  of  strife 
and  rendition  of  justice  torn  from  them,  one  by  one,  they  had 
demanded  a  division  of  their  estate,  and  a  settlement  upon  their 
separate  patrimony. 

But  the  stronger  brother  envied  the  richer  fields  and  easy 
independence  of  the  weaker,  and  refused  to  let  hin*  have  the 
portion  of  goods  that  belonged  to  him.  The  latter  warned,  he 
remonstrated,  he  pleaded  a  peaceful  separation.  The  treach- 
erous brother  pretended  to  grant  it,  and  lulling  him  to  security 
by  promises  of  peace,  improved  the  time  granted  to  his  profes- 
sions, in  preparing  to  compel  a  compliance  with  his  wishes  by 
force  and  fear.  Then,  when  the  mask  was  removed  from  the  face 
oi  hypocrisy,  and  the  last  ray  of  hope  had  faded,  a  chivalrous 
people  sternly  and  sadly  prepared  to  win  with  the  sword  the 
rights  which  the  exhortations  of  love  had  failed  to  secure  them. 


JAMES    W.    JACKSON.  11 

They  commissioned  their  representatives  to  a  common  council, 
and  through  them,  declared  to  the  world  that  they  were  a  sepa- 
rate people. 

Still  the  other  would  not  let  them  go.  The  vast  power  of 
the  government,  the  army,  the  navy,  a  large  numerical  majori- 
ty in  population,  every  advantage  were  theirs,  and  they  were 
confident  of  a  speedy  triumph  over  their  despised  foe.  And 
now,  while  they  are  raising  and  organizing  the  army  of  invasion 
and  subjugation,  in  the  defenceless  town  of  Alexandria,  under 
the  very  guns  of*  the  powerful  administration,  the  obscure  and 
humble  inn-keeper,  Jackson,  burning  with  detestation  of  the 
perfidious  government,  and  with  zeal  and  patriotic  love  of  his 
new  mother,  raises  over  his  home  the  chosen  flag  of  his  coun- 
try, lies  down  to  sleep  under  the  protection  of  its  folds,  and 
pledges  his  life  to  uphold  it  from  dishonor. 

The  invasion  comes;  the  town  is  siczed;  the  sma^Il  force— the 
advance  g/iard  of  the  gathering  army  of  freedom — retiring  be- 
fore the  overwhelming  numbers  of  their  foes,  or  captured  by  the 
perfidious  violation  of  a  flag  of  truce;  blindefl  by  his  mad  am- 
bition, eager  for  distinction  among  the  haughty  invaders,  a 
young  and  promising  officer  himself  tears  down  the  flag.  Jack- 
son is  roused  from  his  sleep  by  the  noise  of  the  profaning  hosts*, 
he  hears  their  exulting  cries  as  his  beloved  banner  is  ruthlessly 
torn  down.  Maddened  by  the  insolence  of  the  trespass,  he 
rushes  out  to  meet  the  violator  of  his  house,  and  quenches  in  its 
life-blood  the  hate  of  the  heart  which  had  prompted  it.  Of 
course  he  is  immediately  sacrificed  to  the  vengeance  of  his  foes, 
and  the  victim  of  patriotism  and  the  victim  of  t}*ranny  fall,  side 
by  side,  as  their  spirits  rise  to  confront  each  other  upon  the 
•eternal  witness-stand. 

The  writer  of  this  memoir  knew  Jackson  well  in  all  the  rela- 
tions he  bore  in  life ;  in  his  public  and  private  character;  first 
when  shortly  afte^r  his  marriage,  the  natural  restlessness  of 
kis  disposition  had  been  temporarily  subdued  in  the  peaceful 
cultivation  of  a  farm  and  the  quiet  delights  of  home,  and  since 
•then,  in  his  public  life  at  Fairfax  Court  House  and  Alexandria. 
He  was  in  Alexandria  for  several  weeks  preceding  his  death, 
and  at  the  time  it  occurred,  was  with  him  until  twelve  o'clock 


12  LIFE    OF 

on  the  night  that  ushered  in  so  eventful  a  morrow,  and  enjoyecl 
the  mournful  pleasure  of  visiting  afterwards  the  s'cene  of  his 
triumphant  fall  and  of  gazing  on  the  mute  but  pleading  corpse, 
In  preparing  this  tribute  to  his  daring,  this  souvenir  to  Ms 
memory  and  the  glory  of  his  heroic  death,  he  will  not  attempt 
a«iy  romantic  coloring  of  his  life;  eventful  and  remarkable 
throughout,  it  does  not  need  any.  The  friends  who  knew  him 
not,  but  who  thrill  with  admiration  of  his  heriosm,  must  not  ex- 
pect to  find  in  his  character  anything  super-mortal — though  his 
deeds  may  have  partaken  of  that  nature,  ^he  faults  that  he- 
had,  in  common  with  us  all,  the  true  historian  cannot  extenuate. 
His  many  good  traits  shall' be  set  forth  without  over-laudation,, 
his  life  narrated  us  correctly  as  possible  from  the- facts  now  able 
to  be  collected,  that  the  reader  who  saw  him  not  in  the  flesh 
may  form  a  proper  ideal  of  the  life  and  character  e-f  the  man.. 

In  person,  Jackson  was  tall  and  stout,  at  least  six  feet  in 
height,  and  very  powerfully  framed.  He  was  generally  con- 
sidered while  he  lived  there,  the  strongest  man,  or  least  the  best 
pugilist  in  his  county  (Fairfax),  with,  perhaps>  one  exception,  » 
man  of  almost  gigantic  frame,  named  Peacock.  His  face  was- 
remarkable  in  its  expression.  Grim,  stern,  obstinate  determi- 
nation was  stamped  emphatically  on  every  feature.  The  fore- 
head was  low,  and  on  it  the  hair,  always  kept  short,  stood  up» 
defiantly.  His  brows  were  prominent,  his  eyes  small  and  keen,; 
hethad  high  cheek-bones,  an  aquiline  nose,  and  full  and  finely- 
turned  lips  and  chin.  His  mouth  was  indicative  of  sensuality ; 
but  at  the  same  time  it  heightened,  by  the  firm  compression  of 
the  lips,  the  disting?iishing  character  of  his  face.  When  vary 
young  he  must  have  been  quite  handsome,  but  at  the  time  of  his 
death,  he  being  then  thirty-five  or  fo-rty,  the  features  had  be- 
come somewhat  hardened,  from  the  unsettled  and  violent  life  he- 
had  led.  He  was  lithe  and  active,  and  his  address  graceful  and 
pleasing.  Those  who  knew  him,  in  early  life  will  recollect  the 
general  affability  and  politeness  of  his  bearing.  He  was  then 
neat  and  comely  in  his  dress,  and  his  elegant  figure  made  him 
indeed  conspicuous.  , 

Jackson's  father  was  Richard  Jackson  of  Eairfax.  He  mar- 
ried Jane  Donaldson  of  Baltimore.     They  were  very-  worthy  and 


JAMES    W.    JACKSON.  13 

highly  respectable  people.  They  had  seven  children.  The  eldest 
daughter  married  Mr.  Stewart  of  Fairfax,  the  second  Dr.  Evans 
of  Virginia,  now  dead,  and  the  third  Major  Henry  W.  Thomas, 
the  present  distinguished  representative  of  the  counties  of  Alex- 
andria and  Fairfax  in  the  Senate  of  Virginia.  His  family  now 
reside  in  Richmond.  John,  the  eldest  son,  is  a  physician  of  fine 
talents,  wealth  and  standing  near  Lebanon,  Kentucky.  In 
November,  1861,  he  shot  and  killed  one  of  a  party  of  Yankees 
who  came  to  his  house  trespassing  and  insulting.  For  this, 
when  last  heard  of,  he  was  in  the  jail  of  Lebanon  awaiting  l}is 
trial.  How  forcibly  does  his  deed  remind  us  of  that  of  his 
heroic  brother!  The  second  brother,  Richard,  lives  in  Washing- 
ton. Charles,  the  third,  is  in  the  17th  Regiment  Virginia  Vol- 
unteers,  Col.  Corse.  James  was  the  youngest  child.  The  fami- 
ly mansion,  a  fine  old  country  house,  i>  on  the  Georgetown 
and  Leesburg.  turnpike,  8  milff>  from  Georgetown.  ■  The  Post 
Office  was  kept  there  in  the  old  times  of  scarcity  of  houses 
whence  the  one  now  used  has  the  name  of  the  house  "Prospect 
Hill."  The  boys  were  early  distinguished  for  their  bold  and 
restless  dispositions.  Especially  so  was  James.  Talents  be  had 
of  high  order.  His  father  died  when  he  was  but  six  months 
old,  but  his  mother  did  everything  to  secure  her  children  the  ad- 
vantages of  education.  She  was  preparing  to  send  him  to  the 
Georgetown  College,  when,  by  the  advice  of  his  brother  John 
lie  was  sent  out  to  him  in  Kentucky  and  entered  the  Catholic 
College  in  St.  Louis.  He  did  not  stay  long  however,  but  re- 
turning to  Kentucky  remained  sometime  there  with  his  brother 
who  was  very  fond  of  him. 

Had  his  talents  been  diligently  improved  he  would  Have  been 
distinguished  in  some  respect,  for  he  had  a  fine  judgment  m 
with  great  shrewdness!  His  mechanical  turn  was  remarkable. 
But  he  did  not  relish  the  dry  details  of  study.  He  was  fond  of 
the  open  air  and  the  hardiest  sports  that  manhood  indulges  in. 
Indulging  freely  the  rude  bent  of  his  inclination,  he  became  in- 
volved in  numerous  hardy  adventures,  mostly  souijlit  by  him  in 
wanton  love  of  the  sport,  and  in  the  very  exhuberance  and  o 
flow  of  strong  animal  courage,  so  that  his  name,  whe*n  the  writer 
of   this  first  heard  it,  was,  in  his  neighborhood,  a'synonvm  of 


14  LIFE    OF 

athletic  daring.  This  fact  is  not  to  be  mentioned  in  blame. 
Many  a  life  has  commenced  in  the  same  way,  and  after  having 
been  crowned  with  usefulness,  terminated  most  honorably.  The 
old  revolutionary  hero  Daniel  Morgan  was,  in  his  youth,  just 
such  a  man  as  James  W.*  Jackson,  the  hero  of  the  new  revolu- 
tion. Violent  his  nature  certainly  was,  but  it  had  not  that  vio- 
lence that  is  the  offspring  of  guilt.  Had  not  the  attendant  and 
surrounding  circumstances  of  his  early  life  aided  the  develop- 
ment of  this  trait,  or  had  some  strong  influence  otherwise  direc- 
ted it,  he  might  have  been,  with  his  talent  and  physical  ad- 
vantages, an  ornament  to  the  highest  society,  and  "  this  depo- 
nent" can  testify  with  pleasure,  to  many  acts  that  show  how  kind 
and  obliging  a  nature  was  his.  Eminently  social  in  his  disposi- 
tion he  could  not  brook  confinement  or  loneliness.  He  had  al- 
ways his  house  filled  with  company.  f 

He  bore  in  reality  the  diameter  of  which  his  face  was  so 
striking  an  indication.  He  was  terrible  to  an  enemy.  He  knew 
no  fear  on  earth,  nor  any  yielding  from  his  resolution,  but  to 
those  he  loved  he  was  devoted  and  true.  He  was  a  most  zeal- 
ous and  self-sacrificing  friend.  As  a  landlord,  which  avocation 
his  social  impulses  led  him  to  adopt,  he  was  studious  to  please 
and  accommodating.  Whenever  in  moments  of  passion  or  irri- 
tation he  injured  a  friend  or  attacked  without  provocation,  he 
was  always  most  prompt  to  acknowledge  his  fault,  as  soon  as  an 
opportunity  offered.     The  faults  of  such  a  nature  are  venial. 

For  one  thing  certainly  his  memory  should  be  ever  dear  to  all 
true  sons  of  the  South — his  devotion  to  their  cause.  That  in- 
deed, was  a  solemn  principle  with  him.  He  would  brook  no  in- 
sult to  his  country,  no  breath  of  accusation.  However  high  the 
position,  however  numerous  the  friends  of  him  who  uttered  it, 
Jackson  cared  not — in  that  name  would  he  smite  though  hosts 
stood  arrayed  against  him.  This  was  frequently  illustrated 
during  the  exciting  political  tempest  that  agitated  the  whole 
country  in  the  summer  and  fall  of  1860,  and  the  winter  of  '61. 
He  was  ever  bold  to  denounce  and  prompt  to  punish  any  word 
even  of  apology  for  Abraham  Lincoln  and  his  insane  party, 
however  great  the  threatened  detriment  to  his  own  interests  in 
consequence'. 


JAMES   W.«  JACKSON.  15 

But  let  ns  take  up  the  story  of  his  life  and  gather  our  opinion 
from  the  incidents  with  which  it  abounds.  The  early  part  of 
it  was  spent  alternately  with  his  mother  in  Fairfax  and  his 
brother  John  in  Kentucky;  There  he  became  inured  to  those 
hardy  sports  and  skilled  in  th'at  rifle-practice  which  he  so  much 
loved.  There  he  met  and  married  Miss  Susan  Maria  Adams,  the 
daughter  of  a  gentleman  in  Washington  county,  near  Lebanon. 
She  is  a  lady  of  the  sweetest  manners  and  appearance,  and  during 
their  life  together  her  gentle  influence  over  him,  fearless  and 
obdurate  to  almost  all  else,  was  striking,  while  not  the  less  so 
was  his  devotion  to  her.  • 

He  had  been  recommended  to  this  lady  and  she  to  him,  by  a 
Catholic  priest,  her  cousin,  but  a  short  while  before  their  mar- 
riage. The  priest,  who*had  thought  Jackson  all  along  a  zealous 
Catholic,  reminded  him  of  his  "  duties,"  and  tried  to  bring  him 
to  the  confessional.  To"  this  he  demurred,  and  the  reverend 
father  changed  his  recommendation  to  objection,  and  tried  to 
break  off  the  match  by  slandering  him  to  the  lady's  father.  She, 
hearing  of  it,  informed  her  lover.  He  married  her,  notwith- 
standing the  priest's  opposition  and  the  coolness  of  the  father 
occasioned  by  it. 

When  he  was  about  starting  to  Virginia  with  his  bride,  he 
sent  for  the  priest  and  questioned  him  in  regard  to  the  reports 
he  had  heard.  He  denied  having  spread  them,  and  Jackson  re- 
quested his  written  denial  to  show  to  his  father-i^L-law,  but  the 
priest  refused  it.  He  then  told  him  he  would  have  to  do  that  or 
take  a  thrashing.  Finding  he  must  fight,  the  holy  man  took  off 
his  gown  and  prepared  himself  for  business.  Jackson's  first  im- 
petuous attack  made  him  understand  that  he  had  plenty  of  it 
on  hand;  but  he  was  a  tough  and  hardy  Kentuckian,  and  took 
blows  and  knocks  as  unflinchingly  as  old  friar  Tuck  himself,  and 
he  gave  Jackson  a  long  and  bloody  battle.  At  length,  how- 
ever, the  unexercised  sinews  of  the  priest  Ifegan  to  tire,  while 
the  arm  of  the  yeoman,  hardened  by  practice  in  the  work,  still 
fell  heavily.  Jackson,  cjesiring  in  the  first  place  to  punish  his 
adversary,  and  rendered  still  more  desirous  of  it  by  the  tough 
resistance  he  met,  now  showered  his  blows  fiercely  and  unmer- 
cifully, and  gave  the  priest  a  most  terrible  beating.     So  severe 


16  LIFE    OF 

was  it,  that  the  priest  obtained  a  -warrant  and  a  posse  and  fol- 
lowed him  to  Louisville.  There,  however,  he  frightened  the  consta- 
bles and  all,  and  his  faithful  brother  John  coming  to  his  assistance, 
he  succeeded  in  escaping  the  wrath  of  the  beaten  ecclesiastic. 

It  was  doubtless  the  gentle  influence  of  his  wife,  whose  refined 
and  sweet  disposition  would  make  ajiy  home  attractive,  which, 
controlling  his  adventurous  nature,  kept  him  for  several  years 
free  from  the  associations  to  which  he  had  once  been  inclined, 
and  induced  him  to  settle  down  to  the  quiet  life  of  a  farmer. 
This  he  did,  on  his  small  farm  near  his  mother's,  in  Fairfax. 

"It  was  here,7'  writes  a  young  man  of  his  county,  who  has 
furnished  us  with  the  account  of  several  facts  in  his  Wstory, 
"  that  I  first  knew  him.  In  the  summer  of  1854  I  returned 
home  finally  from  college,  my  father  then  living  on  a  farm  ad- 
joining the  one  that  Jackson  cultivated.  Among  my  '  acquisi- 
tions '  at  college  was  a  rifle,  won  in  a  raffle,  and  as  soon  as  I  reached 
home  I  proceeded  to  try  and  acquire  'the  hang  '  of  it  by  prac- 
ticing on  the  game  which  abounded  in  the  neighborhood.  I  had 
been  out  many  times,  and  though  I  had  frequently  had  fine  op- 
portunities, yet,  somehow,  I  did  not  succeed  in  killing  anything. 
One  day  I  had  been  out  after  squirrels,  and  having  hunted  for 
some  hours,  and  fired  several  times  without  effect,  I  had  lain 
down  near  a  hollow  tree  to  wait  for  something  to  show  itself. 
There,  reflecting  on  my  lack  of  luck,  and  wondering  whether  I 
would  ever  nlake  a  backwoodsman,  I  fell  into  a  sort  of  doze  or 
dream,  from  which  I  was  startled  by  the  sharp  crack  of  a  rifle 
near  me,  followed  by  a  heavy  thump,  as  a  large  squirrel  fell  dead 
by  my  side.  I  jumped  up,  and  beheld  a  man  a  few  yards  off 
quietly  loading  his  piece. 

"Did  you  kill  that  squirrel  with  a  rifle  ?"  I  asked. 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  "and  I  didn't  hit  him,  either,  if  I  shot 
true  ;  see  if  I  did4" 

I  picked  the  squirrel  up,  and,  sure   enough,  no  bullet  mark 
was  on  him. 

"I  came  the  Kentucky  dodge  over  him  that  time,"  said  he, 
now  approaching,  with  a  smile  on  his  face  at  my  perplexity. 

"That's  what  we  call  barking,"  and  he  proceeded  to  explain 


JAMES   W.    JACKSON.  17 

that  lie  had  shot  so  as  to  raise  the  bark  upon  which  the  animal 
was  lying,  and  kill  him  by  the  concussion. 

He  then  looked  at  my  rifle,  and  I  informed  him  of  my  inability 
to  hit  with  it.  Selecting  a  spot  on  a  tree,  about  fifty  yards  off, 
he  raised  my  piece  and  fired:  His  ball  struck  the  edge  of  the 
tree,  but  directly  on  the  horizontal  line  of  the  mark.  He 
moved  the  sight  a  little,  loaded  and  fired  again,  and  this  time 
his  ball  "plumbed  the  centre."   - 

"  Xoff,"  said  he,  "I  think  you  can  hit  something.  Come 
with  me  and  try  you  luck." 

I  started,  and  soon  found  he  was  as  expert  at  finding  as  in  se- 
curing game.  We  presently  had  a  shot  at  another  squirrtd,  and 
in  the  course  of  a  short  time  had  secured  four,  one  of  which  I 
had  the  extreme  gratification  of  '•  bringing  down  "  myself.  I 
had  told  the  stranger  who  I  was,  but  did  nut  know  his  name  un- 
til he  asked  me  to  go  by  home  with  him,  and  pointed  out  his 
house  as  we  emerged  from  the  woods. 

"  Why,  that  is  Jim  Jackson's  house,"  said  I. 
"  Yes,  and  I  am  Jim  Jackson,"  replied  he,  with  a  smile,  as  he 
observed   a  curious  expression  on  my  face,  for  I  really  was  as- 
tonished  to   find  that   my  kind  and   affable  friend  was  the  re- 
doubtable knight-errant  of  his  neighborhood. 
'"You've  heard  of  me,  I  reckon,"  continued  he. 
"Yes,  I  have,"  I  said. 

He  replied,  "  Yes,  and  you've  heard  a  great  many  lies  about 
me,  too.  There  arc  some  people  in  this  neighborhood  that  pre- 
tend to  think  because  I  get  into  a  frolic  or  a  fight  sometimes, 
that  I'm  a  rascal,"  he  said,  and  then  he  muttered,  "I  would  like 
to  trace  some  things  I  hear  to  their  source." 

I  went  on  home  with  Jackson,  and   at   his  house  I  was  intro- 
duced to  his  wife,  and  was  much  delighted  with  her  quiet  and  at-    ~ 
tractive  manners,  and  could  not  help  thinking  that  a  man 'must 
have  much  gentleness  in  him  who  could  win  the  affections  of  so 
evidently  refined  and  ladylike  a  person. 

Jackson   entertained   me  pleasantly,  and  before  I  left  made 

me,  with  his  own  hands,  a  new  ram-rod — mine  being  too  short— 

and  fixed  my  rifle    in  good  shooting    order.     I  departed  much 

pleased  with  my  visit,  and  we  frequently  hunted  together  after- 

2 


18  LIFE    OF 

wards,  and  I  had  the  gratification,  under  his  tuition,  to  think 
myself  soon  quite,  an  expert  "backwoodsman,"  and  to  know  I 
was  a  very  fair  rifle  shot. 

These  trivial  things  are  mentioned  now  injustice  to  the  softer 
and  finer  traits  of  a  disposition  rough  and  unpolished,  it  is  true, 
and  on  that  account  often  hurried  to  the  commission  of  acts 
which  have  sometimes  received  the  censure  of  his  acquaintances, 
which  acts,  most  assuredly,  his  nature,  in  its  moments  of  reflec- 
tion, strongly  condemned,  whenever  they  were  worthy  of  con- 
demnation. 

The  reader  of  the  previous  pages  can  now  have  a  very  fair 
idea  of  Jackson's  character.  Let  them  reflect  that  his  kind- 
ness to  the  writer  of  the  preceding  adventure  was  entirely  with- 
out amy  hope  of  advantage,  and  must,  indeed,  have  also  been 
without  any  pleasure  derived  from  it,  except  that  of  conferring 
pleasure,  for  he  adds:  "I  was  certainly  not  much  company  for 
him,  and  even  less  assistance  than  company,  since  it  was  seldom 
my  skill  contributed  to  the  stock  of  the  game  f  yet  he  neverthe- 
less insisted  always  on  an  equal  division,  never  hinting  of  a 
claim  to  the  lion's  share,  to  which  he  was  justly  entitled;  neither 
would  he  ever  visit  my  home  with  me,  to  partake  of  the  bounty 
which  his  skill  had  furnished  for  my  father's  board,  while  I  was 
frequently  forced  to  accompany  him  to  his  own  house." 

His  stay  on  the  farm,  which  was  altogether  about  four  or  five 
years,  must  have  constituted  the  most  happy  part  of  his  life, 
tnough, 'as  it  was  also  the  most  quiet,  perhaps  he  did  not  think 
so.  He  yearned  for. more  active,  or  at  least  more  public  life,  and 
accordingly,  in  1858  he  leased  the  "Union  Hotel,"  at  Fairfax 
Court  House,  and  established  himself  there  as  its  landlord. 
Often,  after  the  eventful  scenes  of  the  great  storm  had  begun  to 
appear,  has  he  looked  up  at  the  old  sign  which  used  to  swing  be- 
fore the  door,  and  laughingly  threatened  to  cut  the  "Union" 
from  it.  Had  the  letters 'been  supposed  to  give  an  indication  of 
his  sentiments  he  would  doubtless  have  done  it,  for  he  became 
very  early  a  Secessionist.  Whether  anything  was  eventually 
done  with  it  or  not  by  him,  we  cannot  say  ;  but  in  April,  1861, 
when  the  Virginia  troops  were  gathering  together  to  defend 
their   homes,  the  old  board   had  ceased  to  swing.     The  wires 


JAMES  W".  JACKSON.  19 

■which  held  it  were  fluttering  from  their  posts,  but  the  board  ' 
which  once  pointed  out  to  the  weary  traveler  a  place  of  rest, 
whether  taken  down  by  patriots  unwilling  to  see  its  vain  device 
elevated  among  them,  or  swept  down  in  their  wrath  by  the  winds 
of  heaven,  was  gone  !  Even  with  the  Government,  its  distinc- 
tion recalled,  it  was  gone  !  And  the  beacon  which  had  so  long 
pointed  the  weary  traveler  through  the  waste  of  life  to  a  place  of 
rest  and  freedom,  even  as  this  old  memorial  of  its  name,  was 
gone,  the  ties  that  held  it  to  its  time-honored  post  rudely  snapped 
by  tyranny's  violent  hand. 

Pity  it  is  that  it  could  not  have  stood.  When  last  we  trod 
the  oppressed  streets  of  Alexandria,  the  "gallant"  Zouaves 
were  displaying  their  unexampled  heroism  in  a  perilous  but  suc- 
cessful attempt  at  removing  from  the  offended  eye  of  the  indig- 
nant public  everything  befouled  with  the  epithet  of  "  Southern." 
The  sign  of  the  ':  Southern  Protection  Insurance  Company"  had 
just  been  torn  from  its  fastenings  and  precipitated  from  a  second 
story  window  into  the  thronged  street  below ;  that  of  the 
"  Southern  Churchman  "  also  had  been  torn  off  and  demolished. 
Whether  the  righteous  indignation  of  our  own  soldiers  would 
have  vented  itself  in  like  manner  on  that  old  sign-board,  if  it 
had  stood  till  they  occupied  the  place,  we  know  not ;  but  we 
wish  it  could  have  been  left.  It  would  have  been  a  speaking 
memento,  though  a  very  humble  one,  of  the  devotion  a  brave 
people  once  had  to  a  great  Government,  while  the  desolation  it 
would  now  mark,  (for  from  that  temple  of  justice  on  the  one 
side  the  dogs  of  war  have  chased  her  custodians,  while  our  pick- 
ets shelter  their  horses  in  the  portico  of  the  hotel  on  the  other,) 
the  determination  of  that  people  to  tear  from  their  hearts  their 
allegiance  to  that  Government,  now  prostituted  to  the  lust  of 
despotism,  though  desolation  follow  in  the  path  0/  their  attempt. 

While  Jackson  kept  this  hotel,  its  run  of  custom  was  large. 
He  was  attentive  to  the  comfort  of  his  guests,  and  hi3  table  was 
well  supplied.  So  far  as  his  means  and  influence  extended,  he 
endeavored  to  amuse  and  accommodate  the  public  in  the  true 
spirit  of  his  craft.  To  accomplish  this,  he  added  a  restaurant 
to  his  hotel  for  the  accommodation  of  appetites  of  all  sizes,  but 
that  part  of   the  business  did  not  pay,  and  was  shortly  aban- 


20  LIFE    OF 

doned.  Indulging  his  strong  social  feelings,  he  instituted  a  se- 
ries of  "hops  "  or  entertainments  at  his  house,  and  whenever  he 
happened  to  encounter  a  good  musician,  he  would  call  an'  im- 
promptu "  ball,"  and  afford  the  young  people  of  the  village  an 
opportunity  of  enjoying  themselves  together.  He  was  always  at 
the  head  of  anything  tending  to  public  amusement,  and  in  the 
tournaments,  balls,  &c,  which  flourished  so  during  those  times, 
he  bore  a  leading  part,  if,  indeed,  he  did  not  give  the  first  im- 
petus to  them  himself. 

In  the  fall  of  1859  was  the  John  Brown  demonstration  at 
Harper's  Ferry.  The  whole  country  knows  the  effect  of  that 
raid  upon  Virginia.  Like  the  ready  warriors  of  Clan- Alpine, 
at  the  shrill  whistle  of  their  chieftain  sprang  up  the  sons  of  the 
proud  old  Commonwealth,  as  that  note  of  alarm  pealed  through- 
out her  borders.  We  could,  almost  realize  the  description  of 
the  poet : 

# 

Wild  sis  the  scream  of  the  curlew. 

From  crag  to  crag  the  signal  flew. 

Instant  through  copse  and  heath  arose 

Bonnets  and  spears  and  bended  bows  ; 

On  right,  on  lefr,  abeve,  below, 

Sprang  up  at  once  the  lurking  foe; 

From  shingles  gray  their  lances  start, 

The  bracken  bush  sends  forth  the  dart, 

The  rushes  and  the  willow  wand 

Are  bristling  into  axe  and  brand, 

And  every  tuft  of  broom  gives  life 

To  plaided  warrior  armed  for  strife. 

The  Fairfax  boys  were  not  behind-hand  in  this  respect. 
Among  the  first  companies  formed  after  the  raid  was  the  "  Fair- 
fax Riflemen,"  Capt.  Wm.  H.  Dulany,  and  to  this  company 
Jackson  at  once  attached  himself.  It  is  now  of  the  17th  Regi- 
ment Virginia  Volunteers,  Col.  M.  D.  Corse,  and  has  done 
much  service  during  the  war,  and  was  one  of  the  few  companies 
engaged  in  the  battle  of  Bull  Run,  July  18th,  when  the  Captain 
and  several  of  the  men  were  wounded.  Jackson's  brother, 
Charles,  is  now  a  member  of  this  company.  In  it  he  continued 
till  the  winter  of  1861,  when,  matters  growing  more  serious  every 


JAMES  W.  JACKSOX.  21 

day,  and  it  being  plain  that  war  was  at  hand,  he,  by  strong  ex- 
ertions, succeeded  in  raising  another  company  (of  artillery)  from 
the  neighborhood,  of  which  he  was  elected  Captain.     Removing 
to  Alexandria  shortly  afterwards,  he  was  not  able  fully  to  organ- 
ize his  men ;  but  when  the  troops  were  ordered  out  in  April,  he 
summoned  them  to  Alexandria,  and  kept  those  who  assembled, 
amounting  to  about  one-half  of  the  company,  at  his  own  house 
for  some  time,  when,  from  the  rush  of  business  in  the  town,  he 
having  to  furnish  meals  to  several  companies  besides,  he  being 
unable   to  bring   them  all  together,  he  disbanded  those  he  had. 
Whether  the   company  would   have  been  completely  organized, 
had  he  lived,  it  is  impossible  to  say  ;  but  tho^e  who  know  the 
indomitable   spirit  and  determination  of   the  man,  will  readily 
believe  that  he  would  have  had  it  soon  ready  for  gallant  service. 
While    our    troops    were    in    Alexandria,  Jackson    was   very 
urgent  in  his  request  to  Col.  Terrett  to  allow  him  twelve  men  to 
go  with  him    to  burn  down    the  Long  Bridge  ;  but  Col.  T.'s  in- 
structions not  allowing  him  to  authorize  such  proceedings,  il 
not  permitted.     We  can  but  think  that  if   it  had  been  done,  it 
might  have  changed  the  state  of  things  in  the  Alexandria  neigh- 
borhood to  the  advantage  of   our  people.     Jackson  went  several 
times  in    the  night  to   the  bridge  to  see  if  any  Yankee  pickets 
had  ventured   across,  but   did   not  discover  any.     Once  he  went 
through  Washington  to   spy  out  the  indication  of  the  enemy's 
movements. 

Events  of  great  significance  began  rapidly  to  crowd  upon  the 
stage  after  the  Harper's  Ferry  affair.  The  fanatics  at  the 
North,  whose  unholy  labors  had  brought  upon  the  insane  old 
man  who  headed  that  monstrous  attempt  the  destruction  that  he 
had  blindly  rushed  into,  were  not  able  to  see,  even  in  the  bitter 
disappointment  and  failure  o,f  his  effort,  and  the  determined 
spirit  it  awakened  in  the  South,  an  argument  of  the  folly  of 
their  course.  Instead  of  condemning  his  conduct,  and  striving 
to  heal  the  bloody  breach  he  had  opened,  they  applauded  his 
bravery,  endorsed  his  act,  and  canonized  his  memory.  Of 
course  this  only  awakened  the  southern  people  to  greater  vigi- 
lance, while  it  sharpened  their  feelings  against  the  poor  old 
dupe  that  this  fiendish  fanaticism  had  driven  to  his  doom. 


22  LIFE    OF 

Jackson  had  been  one  of  the  first  to  rush  to  Harper's  Ferry, 
when  the  news  of  the  raid  spread  through  the  State.  Shoulder- 
ing his  tried  rifle,  which  in  his  practised  hands  was  so  deadly  a 
weapon,  and  mounting  a  swift  horse,  he  started  off.  He  did  not 
arrive  in  time  to  use  it  however,  nor  to  be  "in  at  the  death" 
with  the  marines,  but  reached  these  just  as  the  assassins  had 
been  overpowered.  He  brought  back  with  him  one  of  the  cele- 
brated pikes,  and  a  piece  of  flesh,  which  he  said,  either  in  jest 
or  earnest,  was  part  of  the  ear  of  John  Brown,  Jr.,  and  from 
Jackson's  humor  it  is  very  probable  that  it  was  so.  These  he 
exhibited  for  a  long  time  at  his  house,  and  would  detail  with 
lively  interest  his  conversation  with  old  Brown,  and  the  way  in 
which  he  obtained  his  trophies. 

The  county  of  Fairfax  was  unfortunately  at  that  time, -as  it 
had  been  for  many  years,  infested  with  men  disloyal  to  the  vital 
interests  of  Virginia  and  the  South.  They  had  been  received 
as  brothers  by  the  old  citizens,  and  had  settled  there  in  large 
numbers,  most  of  them  professing  a  strong  attachment  to  the 
cause  of  their  adopted  State,  but  the  events  of  the  past  year 
have  shown  that,  with  only  two  or  three  honorable  exceptions, 
they  have  proved  false  to  their  professions  and  recreant  to  their 
promises.  Most  of  them  had  been  very  sly  in  their  treason,  or 
in  uttering  the  sentiments  they  felt,  but  some  had  proclaimed 
their  opinions  with  bold  effrontery,  and  by  their  shameless  con- 
duct, brought  difficulty  and  disquiet  into  some  sections  of  the 
county.  Now,  however,  they  had  to  put  a  watch  upon  both  acts 
and  words,  so  that  they  might  offend  not  in  any  way  an  aroused 
and  indignant  people.  The  true  sons  of  the  South  now  put 
forth  every  effort  to  detect  and  punish  offenders.  Foremost 
among  the  custodians  of  our  rights  in  the  county  was  James  W. 
Jackson.  No  night  was  too  inclement,  no  labor  too  severe  to 
be  braved,  if  an  opportunity  was  offered  to  discover  evidence 
against  any  man  of  offence  against  our  already  broken  and  bat- 
tered laws. 

During  the  spring  of  1860,  one  Thomas  Crux,  his  fanatical 
zeal  overmastering  even  his  Yankee  cunning,  was  discovered  to 
have  been  distributing  the  infamous  Helper  book  and  other  in- 
cendiary   documents,    and    uttering    incendiary    language.      A 


JAMES    W.    JACKSON.  23 

watch  was  set  upon  him  and  proof  of  his  guilt  obtained.  It 
was  determined  to  arrest  him,  and  Crux,  feeling  his  guilt  would 
be  clearly  proved,  on  his  part  determined  to  escape.  His  de- 
sign was  discovered  by  Joseph  E.  Monroe,  a  young  man  residing 
in  his  neighborhood,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  night  which  Cruz 
had  set  for  his  departure,  and  he  as  firmly  resolved  to  prevent 
it  He  applied  to  Jackson  as  the  best  man  to  aid  him.  Crux 
resided  on  the  road  from  Fairfax  Court  House  to  Washington, 
about  half  way  between  the  two  places.  The  two  proceeded  to- 
wards his  house  in  an  open  buggy  as  soon  as  they  could  get  off, 
but  when  they  arrived,  they  found  the  bird  had  flown.  They  re- 
solved,  however,  to  make  the  attempt  to  catch  him,  and  so 
started  on  rapidly  in  pursuit.  He  had,  however,  gotten  conside- 
rably the  start,  and  it  was  not  until  they  had  reached  the  hill 
leading  down  to  the  Long  Bridge,  that  they  came  in  sight  of 
hiin.  He  was  riding  in  an  open  wagon  with  his  son,  and  the 
night  being  a  bright  moon-light  one,  he  recognised  >Iuni*)e,  and 
suspecting  his  object,  at  once  put  whip  to  his  horses.  The  pur- 
suers of  course  urged  theirs  on,  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  old 
boards  rang  beneath  the  fiery  gallop  of  their  steeds,  in  spite  of  the 
prominent  caution  that  stares  the  crosscrs  in  the  face,  threaten- 
ing a  heavy  penalty  to  all  who  do  not  u  walk  their  horses  over 
the  bridged'  On  they  rushed,  the  pursuers  right  at  the  heels  of 
the  pursued,  through  tlm  draw,  over  the  planks,  on  to  the  causeway, 
©n  the  Washington  side.  Here  at  last  there  was  room  to  pass^ 
and  Munroe,  heeding  not  the  injunction  to  ''keep  to  the  right  as 
the  law  directs,'1  urged  his  swiftef  animal  past  the  team  of  Crux, 
and  pressed  him  against  his  horses  while  Jackson  sprang  from 
his  buggy  to  the  wagon,  snatched  the  reins  and  stopped  the 
team.  Crux  drew  a  pistol,  but  was  afraid  to  use  it  against  such 
determined  courage,  and  found  himself  surely  arrested  for  vio- 
lation of  Virginia  laws,  by  a  citizen,  not  an  authorized  officer, 
there  within  the  jurisdiction  of  the  abolition  rulers  of  the  cor- 
poration of  Washington] 

Still  there  was  no  way  of  getting  off  and  lie  was  taken  by  his 
energetic  captors  and  delivered  into  the  hands  of  the  authori- 
ties. He  was  recognized  to  appear  to  answer  the  charges 
against  him  at  court,  .giving  bail  in  the  sum  of  §2.500,     When 


24  LIFE    OF 

the  term  arrived,  however,  the  provident  abolitionist,  not  relish- 
ing a  residence  so  far  South  as  Richmond,  knowing  that  proof 
and  confirmation  strong  of  his  guilt  was  surely  to  be  forthcom- 
ing, had  made  good  his  second  effort  to  escape,  leaving  the 
amount  of  his  forfeited  recognizance  to  the  State.  When  the 
circumstances  of  his  capture  were  laid  before  the  legislature  of 
Virginia  they  voted  half  of  the  money  to  the  two  men  who  had 
taken  him,  as  a  reward  of  their  fearless  vigilance.  Munroe, 
though,  did  not  live  to  receive  his  portion.  He  had  a  difficulty 
shortly -after  this  occurrence  near  Alexandria,  with  a  man  named 
Howard,  by  whom  he  was  shot  and  killed. 

When  Lincoln  was  nominated  by  the  Black  Republican  party., 
Jackson  became  a  Secessionist  and  soon  showed  himself  a  ready 
defender  of  his  faith.  Several  times  during  the  Summer  he 
wreaked  a  severe  vengeance-  on  the  partizans  of  Abolitionism 
for  proclaiming  their  sentiments  in  his  hearing.  It  inflamed 
him  witfi  fury  to  hear  them  proclaimed,  and  he  would  rush  to 
the  defence  of  his  cause  as  readily  as  to  protect  his  own  life. 

The  share  he  took  in  the  cutting  down  of  the  Occoquan  Lincoln^ 
flag-pole  showed  how  zealous  he  was.  With  characteristic  inso- 
lence a  party  of  miserable  Black  Republicans,  some  native,  some 
imported,  had  raised  a  flag  sacred  to  Lincoln  and  Hamlin,  at 
at  the  town  of  Occoquan,  in  Prince  William  county. 

Stung  by  the  insult  and  by  the  further  one  of  violence  to  a 
young  man  who  had  fallen  in  with  the  flag-party  and  attempted 
to  argue  against  their  act,  having  warned  without  effect,  the 
loyal  citizens  of  the  country  determined  to  remove  the  flaunting 
nuisance  from  the  air  it  poisoned.  They  called  a  meeting  for  a 
certain  morning  at  Brentsville,  the  county  town,  a  few  miles 
from  Occoquan,  of  all  those  willing  to  assist  in  the  work.  There 
was  nothing  to  urge  Jackson  to  go  but  his  own  feelings.  He  was* 
a  citizen  of  another  county,  and  Prince  William  affairs  did  not 
concern  him.  But  the  affairs  of  the  South  concerned  him,  and 
called  forth  all  his  fiery  devotion.  When  the  crowd  marched  to 
Occoquan  he  was  of  it.  The  party  marched  into  the  town  and 
surrounded  the  pole.  A  Northern  man  then  disputed  with  Jack- 
son the  honor  of  first  sticking  the  axe  into  it,  and  after  con- 
tending for   it  good-naturedly  a  few  minutes  he  accorded  it  to 


JAMES    W.    JACKSON.  25 

liim.  Yankee  stepped  out,  raised  his  axe,  and  then,  his  natural 
instinct  suggesting  it,  turned  around  and  inquired  who  was  to 
hear  the  responsibility  of  his  act. 

"I'll  take  the  responsibility  of  this!"  thundered  Jackson  as 
siezing  him  by  the  collar  he  slung  him  around  and  sent  him  off 
with  a  kick.  Then  he  grasped  the  axe  himself  and,  with  steady 
'blow  on  blow,'  soon  brought  the  flag  to  the  ground.  He  re- 
ceived the  flag  as  his  reward,  rode  into  Fairfax  Court  House 
with  it  the  next  day,  and  long  kept  it  at  his  house  with  his  other 
Black  Republican  trophies. 

Little  thought  the  papers  which  chronicled  this  achievement 
that  the  same  "stalwart  yeoman"  whom  they  then  noticed,  was 
in  a  few  months  to  perform  another  deed  the  daring  of  which 
might  eclipse  anything  outside  of  the  pages  of  "romance  or 
fairy  fable,"  and  which  would  place  his  humble  name  high  up 
among  the  martyred  ones  in  Fame's  eternal  temple.  - 

While  narrating  these  exploit*  of  Jackson,  showing,  as  they 
do,  the  more  violent  traits  of  his  character,  it  may  be  well,  as  it 
is  certainly  just,  to  tell  of  others  which  may  evidence  the  softer 
ones  ;.  and  here  a  little  episode,  with  which  he  was  well  acquaint- 
ed, and  every  circumstance  of  which  he  knows  to  be  true  by  the 
testimony  of  his  own  senses,  strongly  suggests  itself  to  the  writer 
of  this  memoir.  When  Jackson  first  commenced  keeping  the 
hotel  at  Fairfax  Court  House,  he  had  employed  as  clerk  an  old 
Spaniard  by  the  name  of  Arquilles.  Where  he  picked  him  up 
no  one  knew,  nor  could  anything  of  his  former  history  be  gath- 
ered from  either  of  them.  The  old  man  was  an  excellent  clerk, 
and  managed  the  accounts  of  the  house  very  satisfactorily  ;  but 
after  awhile  he  began  to  drink  rather  too  hard,  so  that  his  ex- 
cesses brought  on  attacks  which  destroyed  his  usefulness  and 
rendered  him  a  burden  rather  than  an  assistance.  For  eight 
or  nine  months  before  Jackson's  departure  from  the  place  he 
was  an  encumbrance  to  him,  and  was,  during  that  time,  sup- 
ported by  him.  After  his  removal  to  Alexandria  the  old  man 
became  worse,  and  had  one  or  two  attacks  of  severe  illness  at 
the  hotel  where  he  was  staying,  being  then  kept  by  another  man. 
He  was,  during  his  sickness,  very  unpleasant  company,  and  his 
manners  having  been  reserved  and  unprepossessing,  had  made 


26  LIFE   OF 

no  particular  friends  during  his  sojourn  in  the  village.  Jack- 
son, however,  who  was  with  him  when  first  attacked,  notwith- 
standing he  was  then  moving  to  Alexandria,  and  his  presence 
was  required  there,  remained  with  him  until  he  was  out  of  dan- 
ger, and  then  hired  men  to  stay  with  and  nurse  him.  His  sick- 
ness continuing,  Jackson  came  from  Alexandria  to  visit  him,  and 
finding  he  had  been  neglected  in  some  respects,  his  anger  against 
those  with  whom  he  had  been  thrown  let  itself  out  violently. 
He  again  hired  attendance  for  him,  and  did  not  leave  him  till 
assured  of  his  comfort. 

The  old  man  recovered  from  that  attack,  hut  fell  back  into  his 
old  habit,  which  soon  brought  on  another.  During  all  his  sick- 
ness Jackson's  attendance  never  ceased,  he  frequently  leaving 
Alexandria  (at  a  time  when  he  must  necessarily  have  been  very 
busily  employed,)  to  visit  him,  and  when  at  last  he  died,  Jackson 
had  him  decently  buried.  When  we  remember  that  this  old 
stranger  was  poor,  and  friendless,  and  helpless,  and  that  there 
was  no  tie  at  all  to  bind  them,  and  no  claim  from  one  to  the 
other  except  that  of  a  short  acquaintanceship,  his  course  to- 
wards him  is  certainly  deserving  of  praise,  and  Ms  kindness  of 
admiration. 

We  approach  now,  rapidly,  the  closing  scenes  of  his  life.  It 
was  some  time  in  February,  1861,  that  he  became  "fixed"  at 
the  Marshall  House,  in  Alexandria.  The  name  of  this  house  is 
now  familiar  as  household  words  in  the  ears  of  two  nations  of 
people.  It  is  comparatively  a  small  hotel,  on  the  southeast  cor- 
ner of  King  and  Pitt  streets.  Many  years  ago,  green  among 
the  boyhood  memories  of  the  writer,  it  was  the  finest  hotel  in 
Alexandria.  It  was  then  kept  by  one  of  the  very  princes  of 
host-hood,  A.  G.  Newton,  now  of  the  "Atlantic,"  in  Norfolk. 
But  in  18 — ,  somewhere  in  the  "forties,"  Mr.  Green  got  ready 
his  mammoth  "Mansion  House,"  and  Mr.  Newton  transferred 
himself  to  it.  Under  his  management,  it  of  course  oecame  the 
chief  hotel,  and  its  diminutive  rival,  the  Marshal  House,  went 
down.  It  went  through  the  hands  of  several  managers,  but 
seemed  to  prove  a  bael  speculation,  as  none  of  them  cared  to 
keep  it  for  any  length  of  time.  At  last  it  was  purchased  by 
Mr.  A.  S.  Grigsby.     From  him  Jackson  leased  it.     Just  before 


JAMES  W.  JACKSON,  'li 

he  took  possession,  it  had  undergone  a  thorough  refitting — in- 
deed, it  was  not  completed  till  after  he  moved  into  it.  Additions 
were  made  to  it,  and  the  old  part  of  the  house  renovated,  so  that 
in  May  it  stood  an  excellent  house,  well  adapted  for  the  quiet 
comfort  of  guests.  And  it  was  well  patronized,  for  the  eventa 
of  those  stirring  times  had  flooded  Alexandria  with  strangers 
from  Washington,  Maryland,  and  the  South. 

It  was  there  that  the  "  Washington  Volunteers,"  a  noble  corps 
of  young  men,  under  the  leadership  of  that  chief  of  go.d  fel- 
lows and  genial  gentleman,  Major  Cornelius  Boyle,  had  their 
rendezvous.  A  battalion  of  companies  already  formed  was  also 
quartered  there,  and  the  commissiariat  not  then  having  gotten 
under  way,  the  troops  were  quartered  in  convenient  buildings 
and  fed  at  the  hotels  for  some  time  after  the  establishment  there 
of  the  military  pot. 

Very  soon  after  Jackson  took  possession  of  the  house,  he  put 
up  his  flag.  The  staff  was  about  forty  feet  long,  and  the  fl 
fine,  large  one.  It  was  raised  before  the  secession  of  Virginia 
as  an  indication  of  the  sentiment  of  the  man  who  slept  beneath 
it.  There  waved  its  broad  folds  above  the  tops  of  the  surround- 
ing houses,  visible  from  almost  every  part  of  the  town,  and 
plainly  to  be  seen  from  the  surrounding  country,  Washington, 
the  Navy  Yard,  and  the  river.  After  the  State  had  seceded,  it 
then  became  not  only  the  mere  symbol  of  an  opinion,  but  the 
proclamation  of  a  faith,  the  emblem  of  a  nationality,  the  tute- 
lar protection  of  cherished  rights.  Flying,  as  it  did,  in  the  very 
face  of  the  Government  at  Washington,  it  of  course  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  Northern  public,  and  many  a  gallant  editor, 
of  the  word-fighting  school,  waxed  eloquent  over  the  indignity, 
*and  lustily  called  upon  the  sons  of  thunder,  with  whom  their 
ranks  were  then  supposed  to  abound,  to  remove  the  foul  insult 
from  the  offended  sight  of  the  majesty  of  Abraham  Lincoln  and 
Cabinet.     No  one,  however,  responded  to  the  call. 

There  was  published  in  some  Northern  paper,  a  few  days  af- 
ter the  taking  of  Alexandria,  a  "sensation"  story  about  this 
flag,  and  an  attempt  to  capture  it  by  a  daring  Lincolnite.  The 
account  was  gladly  seized  by  the  Northern  press  and  published 
generally,  and  in  all   probability  now  constitutes   among   them 


28  LIFE   OF 

one  of  the  leading    "legends"  of  this  war.     It  was  stated  that 
a  man,  whose  name  was  given,  had  gone  to  Alexandria  for  the 
purpose  of  taking  the  flag  or  perishing  in  the  attempt.     He  put 
up  at  the   Marshall  House,  and   in  the  night  quietly  made  his 
way  to  the  roof   and  secured  the  object  of  his  ambition,  which 
he   concealed  by  wrapping  around    his  body  and    putting    his 
clothes  on  over  it.     He   met  Jackson  in  the  office,  who  simply 
remarked   that  he  was  a  fai  man(l).     He  then  made  his  way  to 
the  suburbs,  beyond  which  he  succeeded  in  going,  after  accomp- 
lishing the  very  diminutive  feat  of    knocking  a  sentinel   down. 
He  then  went  to   a  spot  where  an  accomplice  had  promised  to 
meet  him,  with  the  means  of  transporting  himself  and  his  pre- 
cious burden  beyond  the  reach  of  the    "  hungry  rebels."     He 
waited  here  for  some  time,  but  the  faithless  accessory  failed  to 
appear,  and  daylight  beginning  to  make  itself  and  himself  visi- 
ble, concluding  he  would  certainly  be  missed  and  detected,  he 
returned  to   the   hotel  and  run   the  flag  up  again  to  its  place, 
doubtless  knocking  down  another  sentinel  on  his  return.     Such 
is  the  story  which  was  actually  published  at  the  North  with  the 
'unblushing    assurance   of   falsehood,  claiming  the   credence   of 
truth.     Of  course,  it  is  abominably  and   outrageously  false,  but 
of  a  character,  in  every  respect,  with  most  of  their  publications — 
may  we  not  say  all? — bearing  on  the  question  now  dividing  our 
nations. 

Jackson,  of  course,  saw  and  heard  what  was  written  in  regard 
to  his  flag.  Indeed,  it  was  a  common  joke  to  tell  him  that  on 
such  and  such  a  day  Master  Abe  was  going  to  send  some  one 
down  to  lower  his  banner.  Then  it  was  that  he  would  declare, 
•generally  with  a  smile,  that  "  there  would  be  two  dead  men  about 
when  that  flag  came  down."  Little  did  he  think,  perhaps,  how' 
soon  and  how  literally  his  words  would  be  verified.  He  also  de- 
clared his  intention  to  remain  in  Alexandria,  and  keep  his  flag 
waving  under  any  circumstances. 

Time  wore  on.  The  few  troops  stationed  in  Alexandria  were 
expecting  the  enemy  down  upon  them  daily,  but  still  he  came 
not.  On  Thursday,  the  23d  of  May,  the  vote  was  taken  in 
Virginia  on  the  Ordinance  of  Secession,  passed  in  her  Conven- 
tion on  the  16th  of  April.     The  city  of  Alexandria  and  the  ad- 


JAMES  W.  JACKSON.  29 

joining  neighborhoods  had  given  large  majorities  for  the  Union 
candidates  at  the  February  election.  Whether  the  Federal  Gov- 
ernment waited  purposely  for  the  May  vote  or  not,  we  do  not 
know;  but  it  is  very  likely  they  designedly  delayed  the  seizure 
of  Alexandria  for  fear  of  influencing  the  vote  in  the  State. 
Such  a  motive  would  he  in  keeping  with  all  their  acts.  But 
they  little  knew  the  spirit  of  the  Virginia  people,  and  fatally  did 
they  mistake  the  meaning  of  their  former  vote.  The  events 
that  the  tyrant's  treacherous  policy  had  since  precipitated,  bad 
aroused  the  country  to  a  sense  of  their  danger  and  their  duty. 
Alexandria  and  the  neighboring  districts  gave  large  majorities 
in  favor  of  the  Ordinance  of  Secession — in  fact,  almost  an 
unanimous  vote  for  it. 

.  Who,  that  bore  a  part  in  them,  can  ever  forget  the  scenes 
that  followed  that  day  in  Alexandria?  Early  in  the  evening — 
as  soon  as  the  result  of  the  vote  was  finally  known, — a  party 
met  to  get  up  an  "ovation"  of  some  kind,  to  do  honor  to  the 
spirit  of  the  people,  and  to  the  members  of  the  State  Legisla- 
ture who  had  been  elected  that  day.  Jackson  was  of  the 
crowd — indeed  one  of  the  leaders.  They  determined  to  serenade 
the  members  elect.  They  accordingly  procured  a  fine  band,  and 
when  the  proper  hour  approached  proceeded  to  their  houses, 
first  to  that  of  Mr.  Cazcnove,  of  the  House  of  Delegates,  where 
they  were  met  and  handsomely  entertained  by  him,  after  having 
been  received  with  a  welcome  uttered  in  burning  words  of 
patriotism.  They  then  went  to  Mr.  Thomas'  house,  State  Sena- 
tor, where  they  were  thanked  by  a  friend  of  his— he  being  ab- 
sent. They  then  called  on  Col.  Terrett,  and  were  addressed  by 
Col.  Charles  E.  Stuart,  in  an  eloquent  speech,  and  having  paid 
their  respects  to  these  "men  of  note,"  they  played  at  the  doors 
of  several  private  houses,  wherein  dwelt  the  favored  "divini- 
ties" of  the  party.  The  moon  shone  beautifully,  the  night  was 
mild  and  balmy,  the  spirits  of  the  people  were  light  and  free. 
Jackson  was  the  guide  of  the  band  and  entered  into  the  trea- 
sures of  the  occasion  with  all  the  eagerness  of  his  disposition, 
taking  the  party  to  his  house  and  crowning  the  festivities  with 
a  generous  entertainment.  At  aWn  11  o'clock  the  "party  broke 
up  and  the  music  ceased.     The  happy  companions  of  that  night 


30  LIFE    OF 

parted.  Who  then  guessed  that  of  the  eyes  which  then  reflected 
mutual  enjoyment  from  each  other,  there  were  some  which  never 
more  should  meet,' 

"  Since  upon  night  so  sweet  such  awful  morn  could  rise." 
And  now,  save  the  sentinels  who  pace  their  solemn  rounds, 
the  town  is  quiet,  and  the  "all's  well"  that  comes  floating  up 
on  the  night  breeze  from  the  deek_of  the  blockading  and  threat- 
ening vessel  off  the  wharf,  is  distinctly  heard.  About  one 
o'clock  the  pickets  from  the  long  bridge  gallop  in,  and  report 
the  advance  of  the  enemy  to  the  cavalry  officer  in  charge  of  the 
outpost ;  he  proceeds  at  once  to  Col.  Terrett's  quarters,  arouses 
him  from  sleep  and  informs  him  of  it.  His  orders  are  imme- 
diately issued  to  the  troops  to  prepare  to  march,  and  videttes 
sent  out  to  keep  him  advised  of  the  approach  of  the  enemy.  A 
little  before  day  they  have  approached  quite  near,  Col.  Terrett 
is  just  getting  ready  to  retire,  when  an  officer  with  a  flag  of 
truce  lands  on  the  wharf  and  is  conducted  to  his  quarters.  He 
brings  a  demand  for  the  surrender  of  the  troops.  This  Col. 
Terrett  refuses,,  but  signifies  his  willingness  to  evacuate  the 
town,  and  an  agreement  is  made  allowing  him  till  8  o'clock  to 
effect  the  evacuation,  and  the  officer  returns  to  his  ship.  Col. 
Terrett  at  once  puts  his  column  in  motion,  and  as  his  little  force 
marches  out  at  one  end  of  the  town,  the  mighty  thousands  of 
the  enemy  from  the  river  and  by  the  shore,  march  in  at  the 
other.  There  is  one  fact  that  may  be  stated  here,  (thought  not 
bearing  directly  upon  the  subject  of  this  memoir),  to  show  the 
perfidy  of  the  foe.  The  agreement  solemnly  made  under  that 
flag  of  truce  ivas  broken,  and  the  company  of  cavalry  ordered 
by  Col.  Terrett  to  remain  behind  and  give  notice  of  any  ad- 
vance upon  him,  after  8  o'clock,  was  captured,  notwithstanding 
the  protest  of  Capt.  Ball  against  the  violation  of  the  compact. 
Col.  Terrett  is  now  satisfied  that  it  was  but  a  ruse  to  capture  all 
his  force,  which  the  fortunate  meeting  with  a  train  of  cars  just 
outside  of  town,  and  the  necessary  delay  in  placing  Capt.  Ball's 
company   under  guard,  prevented  them   from   accomplishing.* 


*Note. — An  officer  of  high  standing  in  the  Federal  army  has  assured  a 
relation  of  his  that  it  was  really  de&ig-ned  to  entrap  Col.  Terrett  and  his 


.      JAMES    W.    JACKSON.  31 

Col.  Wilcox'  assurance  was  given  that  it  would  be  kept,  and  the 
excuse  afterwards  given  was  that  it  was  an  officer's  private  act. 
Shame  on  an  officer  who  would  remain  in  the  service  of  a  gov- 
ernment which  would  force  him  to  violate  his  fafth  !  Eternal 
shame  on  a  government  which  would  adopt  so  paltry  a  subter- 
fuge, to  avoid  an  adherence  to  honor,  as  to  attempt  to  throw  the 
odium  on  an  officer  whose  official  acts  honor  should  compel  it  to 
sustain.  But  they  have  more  than  once  shown  that  to  interest, 
with  them,  every  honorable  instinct  is  subservient.  Alas,  even 
for  us  who  were  once  of  them,  that  the  United  States  govern- 
ment and  the  Tinted  States  officers  have  proven  so  false  to  the 
instincts  of  honor,  of  gallantry,  of  humanity. 

The  main  body  of  the  force  of  six  thousand,  which  achieved 
the  glorious  exploit  of  putting  to  flight  four  hundred  men  and 
capturing  the  town  of  Alexandria,  came  by  land.  The  Zouaves, 
however,  who  had  been  encamped  for  some  time  in  Prince 
George's  county,  Maryland,  nearly  opposite  Alexandria,  had 
embarked  in  steam-boats,  and  were  landed  on  the  Virginia  side, 
some  just  above  the  town,  others  (comprising  nearly  all  the  regi- 
ment) at  the  wharves,  with  a  large  force  of  marines  from  the 
navy  yard  and  the  Pawnee.  The  landing  took  place  just  about, 
or  a  little  after  day-break.  As  a  general  thing  the  citizens  were 
not  aroused  from  their  slumber,  nor  knew  of  the  events  going 
on  for  some  time.  Jackson  was  asleep  at  the  time.  The  Mar- 
shall House  was  not  in  the  direct  line  of  march  of  either  force, 
and  the  neighborhood  was,  consequently,  not  alarmed  till  the 
Zouaves  had  arrived  there. 

Some  of  the  companies  of  the  regiment  had  been  sent  off  in 
diffierent  directions,  but  the  main  body,  under  Ellsworth  him- 
self, formed  at  the  wharf,  and  marched  to  King  street,  up  which 
they  filed  in  column  of  companies.     Their  appearan.e,  as  they 

forces  by  this  ruse  of  the  flag  of  truce,  and  was  laughed  at  in  "Washington 
as  a  good  joke.  Again:  After  Ball's  company  had  been  taken  and  placed 
under  guard,  the  cavalry  and  artillery  advanced  after  our  infantry,  and  a 
lady  \vho»e  husband  is  now  in  Richmond,  from  her  residence  saw  them,  on 
arriving  at  the  railroad,  unlimber  their  cannon  to  fire  at  the  retreating 
train,  which  turned  into  the  woods  just  in  time  to  escape  them.  This  is 
all  true. 


32  LIFE   OF 

marched  up  the  street,  must  have  been  very  fine.  Their  fan- 
tastic dress,  the  gleam  of  their  sword-bayonets,  the  investment 
of  terror  with  which  the  braggadocio  of  the  North  had  clothed 
them,  all  conspired  to  make  them  as  they  came  up  on  the  dou- 
ble quick,  an  omen  of  direful  presage.  They  had  been  peculiar- 
ly the  recipients  of  that  praise,  of  anticipation  with  which  the 
North  has  so  liberally  fed  its  soldiers.  Together  with  that  other 
set,  raked  up  by  Billy  Wilson  from  the  cespools  of  infamy  in 
New  York,  they  were  held-  up  to  the  eyes  of  the  South  as  most- 
to-be-dreaded  soldiers,  and  terrible  were  the  deeds  predicted,  if 
once  their  "  ungovernable  heroic  fire"  should  break  out  amid 
the  chaff  of  armed  rebellion.  Had  the  stories  of  Manassas  and 
of  Santa  Rosa  Island  then  been  written,  they  might  have  rob- 
bed the  Zouave  character  of  a  portion  of  its  terror,  even  as  the 
reception  of  Ellsworth  and  his  "pets"  in  Alexandria  must 
have  removed  from  the  Northern  mind  a  portion  of  its  blind- 
ness. 

On  came  the  Zouaves  up  King  street.  Arriving  at  the  Tele- 
graph office,  Ellsworth  first  captured  it  and  placed  it  under 
guard.  As  he  came  out  of  the  door,  his  eye  fell  on  the  flag  of 
Jackson,  flying  from  its  pole  on  the  other  side  of  the  street. 

"Boys  that  flag  must  come  down,"  he  cries,  and  dashes  up 
the  street.  We  are  not  exactly  familiar  with  Zouave  discipline, 
nor  do  we  understand  by  what  orders  he  effected  the  halting  of 
his  men  below,  and  the  detailing  of  two  or  three  to  go  with  and 
assist  him  in  capturing  "the  prize,"  as  he  considered  it,  but  it 
was  done.  He  walked  or  ran  into  the  house  and  boldly  de- 
manded to  be  shown  the  way  to  the  roof.  The  servants  had 
shrunk  away  and  the  clerk  and  a  few  gentlemen  in  the  office  not 
answering  him,  they  proceeded  themselves  to  find  it.  Mounting 
the  roof,  he  assisted  in  hauling  down  the  flag,  while  his  admir- 
ing minions  below  gazed  up  with  rapture  at  the  scene. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  Jackson  was  aroused.  There  is  a 
story  that  he  was  awake  before,  and  met  Ellsworth  as  .he  was 
going  up,  and  finding  out  his  object,  had  then  returned  to  his 
chamber  and  procured  his  gun.*     But  whether  this  be  so  or  not, 

*See  Appendix  No.  1. 


JAMES    W.    JACKSON.  33 

we  know  that  he  was  suddenly  roused  from  sleep,  to  find  that 
his  house  was  overrun  by  insolent  trespassers.  He  hurried  on  a 
portion  only  of  his  dress,  not  taking  time  to  put  on  his  coat  or 
shoes.  He  hears  the  noise  made  in  ascending  the  stair  the 
trampling  on  the  roof,  and  he  knows  what  is  going  on.  He  re- 
members with  what  a  sacred  determination  he  raised  his  flao- 
and  the  aggravating  manner  of  the  insult  to  it  appeals  loudly  to 
him  to  vindicate  it,  and  he  seizes  his 'gun. 

He  knew— he  must  have  known— the  danger,  the  desperate 
peril  of  the  attempt  the  idea  of  which  flashed  across  his  senses, 
and  lie  may  have  hesitated  a  moment,  but  it  was  only  a  moment. 
Honor,  faith,  feeling,  all  were  enlisted,  and  his  mind  was  made 
up.  To  determine  with  him  was  to  perform.  He  rushes  by  the 
nearest  way  to  the  main  stair.  He  reaches  the  second  story 
landing.  Just  as  'he  does  so,  Ellsworth  and  his  friends  are 
descending  the  steps  to  the  landing.  Brownell  in  front.  Ells- 
worth has  commenced  to  wrap  the  flag  around  him,  and  remarks 
as  he  receives  it  from  one  of  the  men,  "I'll  take  the  prize." 

"Yes,   and   here  is   another  for  you!"  rings  the  determined 
voice  of  Jackson,  and  his  stalwart  form  confronts  the  despoilers. 
He  presents  his  gun  at   Brownell,  the  foremost  one,  when  sud- 
denly his    eye  catches   sight  of  the  flag  around  Ellsworth,  and 
with  terribie  energy  he  changes  his  aim   to  him.     In  vain'does' 
Brownell  attempt  to  strike  up  the  gun.   Quick  as  lightning  Jack- 
son brings  it  down,  the  fear-strung   nerves  of  the  Zouave  not 
availing  against   his  desperate  resolve,  and  in  another  instant 
Ellsworth's  heart  receives  the  contents  of  one  barrel.     Then  he 
turns  with  fiercer  fury  on  Brownell,  but  the  Zouave  has  already 
aimed  his  piece,  and  as  Jackson  is  pulling  the  second  trigger  he 
receives  the  dreadful  Minie  ball   through   his  head,  and  as  he 
falls  the  other  load  is  discharged  from  his  piece,  taking  effect  in 
the  frame  of  the  door  on  the  sill  of  which  Ellsworth  has  dropped. 
All  was  over  in  a  few  seconds,  and  while  the  Zouaves  below  are 
looking  for  the  appearance  of  their  chief  and  his  trophy,  the 
surgeon  of  the  regiment  rushes  out,  anddnforms  them  that  their 
Colonel  had  just  been  "brutally  assassinated!" 

For  awhile  all  is  confusion   around,  the  men  being  uncertain 
what  to  do,  in  so  sudden   an   emergency.     At  length,  however, 
o 


34  LIFE    OF 

Ellsworth's  body  is  raised  and  wrapped  in  a  red  blanket,  a  door 
if  torn  from  its  hinges,  on  which  it  is  laid  out  ;  running  muskets 
underneath  this,  it  is  thus  carried  slowly  and  sorrowfully  back, 
•down  the  street  up  which,  a  few  minutes  before,  he  had  so 
.proudly  marched. 

The  body  was  laid  out  in  state  at  the  Navy- Yard  that  day  ; 
on  the  following,  it  was  taken  to  the  White  House.  When 
President  Lincoln  beheld  the  features  of  his  beloved  protege 
sealed  in  death.,  he  is  said  to  have  wept  bitterly.  Abraham  Lin- 
coln weep  !  Far  be  it  from  us  to  offend  against  one  of  the 
finest  instincts  of  humanity,  by  scoffing  at  the  exhibition  of  even 
womanish  weakness,  in  the  man  who  is  gazing  on  the  mutilated 
remains  of  what  has  been  a  solace  and  a  cherished  love ;  but 
tears  from  the  man  who  can  coolly  jest  at  misery,  as  he  heaps 
oppression  on  innocence,  and  condemn  millions  to  unhappiness, 
to  subserve  the  lust  of  one — tears  from  him !  We  confess 
the  picture  is  a  mournful  farce  to  our  contemplation.  The 
corpse  was  conveyed  from  the  White  House  to  the  depot, 
with  ceremonial  pomp,  some  of  the  features  of  which  might 
have  excited  the  envy  of  a  savage,  and  which  never  would  have 
been  tolerated  within  the  confines  of  civilization*  but  for  the  in- 
human hate  which  prompted  them  thus  to  stoop  in  order  to  raise 
the  vulgar  sympathy  of  wretches  in  the  cause  of  the  despot. 
We  allude  to  the  exhibition  in  the  procession,  of  the  now  cele- 
brated flag,  bloody  and  tattered,  which  was  borne,  immediately 
behind  the  hearse,  by  Brownell,  on  the  point  of  the  bayonet 
with  which  he  had  pierced  Jackson's  body  as  he  fell.*  This 
barbarous  ceremonial  was  repeated  in  New  York,  on  the  arrival 
of  the  corpse  there,  which,  having  feasted  the  depraved  appe- 
tites of  the  "b'hoys,"  and  excited  the  vengeance  of  the  "pa- 
triots," was  finally  borne  to  its  last'resting-place. 

Of  course  the  public  mind,  both  North  and  South,  was  much 
excited  by  this  extraordinary  deed,  and  its  mention  was  on 
every  lip,  of  the  one  party  to  extol,  of  the  other  to  condemn. 
The  North,  wonder-stricken  at  their  manner,  and  maddened  by 
the  fact  of  their  great  loss,  heaped  all  sorts  of  condemnation 

*  See  Appendix  No.  2. 


JAMES    W.    JACKSON.  %    35 

on  "  the  assassin  of  Ellsworth."  TVe  need  only  calmly  survey 
the  facts  to  be  convinced  of  the  injustice  of  such  an  epithet 
being  applied  to  our  hero.  In  the  first  place,  in  any  view  they 
may  choose  to  take  of  our  position,  whether  they  regard  us  as 
rebels  or  belligerents,  that  flag  was  entitled  to  treatment  aW  to 
respect  which  it  did  not  receive  at  Ellsworth's  hands.  If  we 
were  to  be  regarded  as  belligerants,  as  an  established  Nationality, 
even  then  the  flag  of  his  country,  floating  above  a  man's  house, 
in  a  conquered  city,  at  an  hour  when  the  owner  was  asleep,  and 
had  not  had  time  to  lower  it,  had  a  claim  for  respect  good  in 
civilized  and  humane  warfare ;  even  then,  knowing,  as  Ellsworth 
did,  that  it  was  &  private  affair,  not  marking  or  intended  to  mark 
a  spot  to  the  defence  of  which  its  colors  might  direct  its  defen- 
ders, but  merely  unfurled  as  an  individual  gratification,  his  gen- 
tlemanly instincts,  if  he  had  them;  his  chivalry,  if  he  possessed 
what  they  claim  for  him,  would  have  prompl^d  him  to  pass  it  by 
for  another  time  ;  or  if  his  sense  of  public  duty  and  public  poli- 
cy required  it,  to  demand  its  removal  in  terms  which  might 
have  spared  the  feelings  of  its  owner. 

But  affecting  to  regard  us  as  "  rebels,"  then  the  flag  was  a 
mere  indication  of  an  opinion,  openly  proclaimed — under  a  sanc- 
tion secured  by  the  strongest  guarantees,  and  to  deny  which 
would  be  to  establish  the  most  offensive*  of  all  tyrannies.  It  is 
the  boast  of  the  English  and  American  law  that  howqver  hum-  , 
ble  it  may  be,  a  man's  house  is  his  castle  ;  that  though  the  rain 
and  the  snow  may  enter  it,  nor  King  nor  President  may  without 
warrant  of  law.  How  easy  would  it  have  been  for  Ellsworth  to 
have  summoned  the  proprietor  of  the  liouse,  and  in  proper  man- 
ner and  form,  demanded  and  obtained  a  removal  of  the  flag. 
But  ah,  when  once  a  man  has  stooped  to  be  the  tool  of  despot- 
ism, how  soon  is  he  accomplished  in  its  dirty  work  !  Even  so 
with  him.  The  heart  had  become  tainted,  and  with  its  corrup- 
tion was  all  the  conduct  infected.  His  whole  course  showed  how 
completely  he  was  carried  away,  by  his  headlong^  passion,  from 
the  path  of  reason.  We  can  honor  the  hero  who,  in  the  storm 
of  battle,  seeing  the  banner  of  his  foe  waving  above  a  redoubt;  > 
whence  destruction  is  showered  on  his  own  ranks,  gives  utter- 
ance  to  the  gallant  resolve,  "That  flag  must  come  down,"  and 


36  LIFE    OF 

bravely  leads  his  men  to  the  attack.  Ellsworth's  resolution  had 
in  it  nothing  to  claim  our  praise.  Here  was  no  battle,  no  resis- 
tance, nothing  but  the  avowal  of  an  opinion,  by  a  brave  man, 
not  afraid  to  declare  it  openly,  and  which  he  had  as.  much  right 
to  avow  in  the  light  in  which  Ellsworth  professed  to  regard 
things,  as  Ellsworth  himself  had,  eight  months  before,  to  run 
up  the  name  of  his  master  Abraham  at  his  own  mast  head. 

No,  his  achievement  was  not  the  military  manoeuvre  of  an 
officer,  only  anxious  to  discharge  his  duty  with  credit  to  himself 
and  his  cause,  but  the  rash  trespass  of  an  invader,  forgetting, 
in  the  blindness  of  selfish  passion,  what  was  due  even  to  his  own 
position.  That  flag  had  been  somewhat  marked,  or  if  he  was 
ignorant. of  that,  it  was  the  first  "rebel  banner"  he  had  seen, 
and  in  the  zeal  of  his  selfishness,  ambitious  that  he  himself 
should  be  the  .first  to  achieve  the  honor  of  capturing  a  secession 
flag,  (whether  gallantly  in  battle,  or  from  the  roof  of  an  over- 
powered private  citizen,  one  among  a  thousand,  would  make  no 
difference  in  the  Northern  idea  of  chivalry,)  he  rushed  to  the 
work  himself.  Dignified  commander  !  Why  did  he  not  speak 
but  the  word  to  his  intrepid  Zouaves,  that  would  have  sped  them 
from  pavement  to  window,  from  window  to  roof,  and  in  a  jiffy- 
have  brought  the  unholy  emblem  of  depravity  to  the  earth  ?  It. 
•would  have  been  fun  to*  them,  and  afforded  a  subject  for  their 
illustrate^  journals  to  embellish  their  pages  with  for  weeks. 
How  vividly  would  they  have  portrayed  the  daring  ascent  of 
the  mountebank,  up  the  walls,  and  the  mute  astonishment  of  the 
gaping  Alexandrians  below  !  But  he  must  give  them  something 
better  than  that — for  him!  He  must  givb  them  his  own  picture 
taking  down  that  flag,  and  covered  wifh  the  exceeding  great  re- 
ward of  his  daring.  His  whole  course  shows  how  completely 
selfish  his  intention  was,  and  his  taking  the  flag  from  the  man 
who  had  it  at  first,  with  the  exclamation  "I'll  carry  thje  prize," 
is  an  explanation  of  it  all.  Had  he  succeeded — had  he  gotton 
out  safely — had  he  escaped  the  wrath  of  his  one  opponent — had 
he  taken  that  flag  to  the  White  House  and  laid  it  before  the  ad- 
•  miring  eyes  of  President  and  Cabinet,  where  would  have  been 
the  praise,  where  the  honor  of  the  achievement  ?  Doubtless  it 
would  have  been  among  a  people  who  herald  as  gallant  auctions 


JAMES    W.    JACKS  OX. 


the  capture  of  unarmed  men  and  helpless  women;  and  the- dem- 
olition by  the  fire  of  war  Gf  the  peaceful  citizen's  home,  and 
send  up  a  voice  of  Coasting  triumph,  as  a  hundred  perchance 
•may  fall  back  before  the  onset  of  a  myriad. 

Looking  at  this  affair  as  we  ought,  where  is  the  right  to  ap- 
ply the  epithet  "assassination"  to  Jackson's  deed?  The  assas- 
sin does  not  confront  his  victim,  when,  armed  and  attended,  he 
goes  forth  to  conquer  and  to  triumph.  He  docs  not  give  him 
warning  of  the  blow  he  means  to  strike.  No,  he  follows  his 
footsteps  stealthily,  he  seeks  him  out  when  alone,  unarmed,  and 
most  unsuspicious  of  danger  ;  he  lurks,  himself,  in  some  hidden 
and  secure  corner,  and  from  his  hiding  place  leaping.a  moment, 
to  strike,  he  hastily  retreats,  and  seeks  security  in  flight  when 
his  deed  is  done.  Not  so  the  Alexandria  hero.  He  is  aroused 
from  sleep  with  the  report  that  his  city  is  invaded,  that  his  home 
is  threatened.  He  hurries  from  his  chamber  to  find  *iat  that 
home  has  been  forcibly  entered.  Being  not  a  military  barrack, 
being  not  the  property  of  a  government  or  corporation,  he  be- 
ing .peacefully  engaged  in  it  in  his  daily  avocation,  he  cannot 
see  the  propriety  of  armed  men  violently  entering  it,  under  no 
warrant  of  law,  or  sanction,  of  justice.  And  for  what  do  thej 
come  ?  Not  to  arrest  an  offender,  not  to  capture  a  fugitive,  not 
to  secure  a  prisoner,  but  to  steal  from  him  a  portion  of  his  pri- 
vate property.  Has  ho  not, a  right,  by  all  law,  to  prevent  suck 
desecration,  even,  if  necessary,  by  taking  the  life  of  the  tres- 
passer? And  of  what  is  it  their  intention  to  rob  him  ?  Of 
that  which  is  as  dear  to  him  as  his  gold,  as  dear  as  any  of  his 
property,  aye,  as  the  honor  of  his  family,  and  as  life  itself.  He 
rushes  to  meet  the  soldiers  ;  he  finds  them  with  the  stolen  pro- 
perty in  possession,  and  in  the  fury  of  his  offended  manhood,  he 
slays  the  chief  of  them.  Alas  !  they  were  too  many  for  him, 
.and  his  life-blood  might  not  ransom  from  their  profaning  hands 
the  symbol  of  his  .faith,  but  he  died  as  a  man  should  die,  in  the 
•defence  of  it.  Let  them  attempt  to  -color  this  affair  as  they 
may,  they  cannot  deprive  Truth  of  its  power,  and  robbery  ij 
robbery,  whether  committed  by  the  wretch,  who  relies  for  his 
protection  on  the  darkness  of  midnight,  and  the  silence  of  stealth, 
or  by  the  marauder  who  overawes  by  armed  battalions- 


38  LIFE    OF 

As  if  designed  by  heaven,  the  circumstances  of  this  deed, 
the  first  invasion  of  our  soil  by  our  haughty  foes,  was  to  teach 
them  a  terrible  lesson  of  the  consequences  they  might  expect. 
Ellsworth,  proud,  insulting,  confident,  violent,  invading  forcibly 
the  house  of  a.citizen  who  desired  only  peace  in  the  possession  of 
his  rights,  exhibited  a  true  type  of  the  Northern  Government  and 
character,  and  the  deed  of  Jackson  must  have  been  a  vivid  indi- 
cation to  them  of  the  determination  of  the  South — a  determina- 
tion thousands  of  their  best  soldiers  have  since  realized  in  dusfe 
and  mortal  agony — to  die  in  their  chosen  tracks,  to  die  on  their 
violated  soil,  rather  than  submit  to  their  invasion  anfl  spoliation.   ( 

After  the  double  deed  was  done,  the  body  of  Jackson  lay  for 
some  time  upon  the  landing,  where  it  had  fallen.  His  wife, 
hearing  the  noise  of  the  guns,  had  rushed  out,  to  find  her  hus- 
band a  corpse,  but  was  forced  back  to  her  room,  and  a  guard 
placed  m  the  house,  every  door  sentineled,  for  fear  of  some  other 
onset  by  one  of  what  the  Zouaves  had  now  learned  to  consider 
the  "  fiery"  rebels.*  A  Confederate  officer,  who  lodged  thafe 
night  at  the  Marshall  House,  being  awakened  by  the  reports, 
started  to  leave  his  room,  to  see  what  was  the  matter,  when  he 
was  suddenly  confronted  by  a' soldier  who,  with. his  musket  pre- 
sented at  him,  ordered  him  back.  He  recognized  the  Zouave 
uniform,  and  at  once  comprehending  the  state  of  things,  went . 
back  to  his  room,  wheVe,  having  fortunately  a  suit  of  citizen's 
clothes,  he  succeeded  in  making  his  escape  after  the  guard  was^ 
removed.  This  was  not  done  for  several  hours,  and  them  the 
friends  of  Jackson  were  permitted  to  carry  the  body  into  aroom 
and  prepare  it  for  burial.  He  was  dressed  in  the  uniform  he 
had  worn  as  Captain  of  artillery.  There,  as  he  lay  cold  in  death,, 
his  face  disfigured  frightfully  by  the  powder  and  the  fearful 
Minie  ball,  his  'tall  foirna  robed  in  the  suit  he  had  donned  Tor 
service  in  the  ranks  of  his  countrymen  in  their  struggle  against 
the  power  of  despotism,  with  the  balmy  air  of  May  floating  in 
through  the  open  window,  what  a  scene  it  presented  !  What  a 
stern  and  sullen  calmness  on  the  faces  of   those  who  laid  out  the 

dead!     And  the  dead  man's  face  !  how  resolute  was  its  expres- 

» 

*  See  Appendix,  Note  No.  S. 


JAMES  W.  JACKSON.  '  39 

sion  !  how  defiantly  stood  up  the  hair,  and  how  terrible  a  triumph 
sat  in  the  firm  compression  of  the  pallid  lips! 

An  old  gentleman  was  busy  cutting  off  locks  of  hair,  and 
wrapping  them  up.  "  Ah,"  he  muttered,  "  let  this  be  remem- 
bered as  coming  from  the  head  of  the  first  man  who  shed  his 
blood  in  the  cause  of  our  Southern  independence."  And  out  in 
the  solemn  streets  there  were  groups  of  citizens  with  menace 
lurking  in  their  eyes,  and  soldiers  gazing  curiously  at  the  house 
of  death,  and  a  cloud  was  on  every  face  and  a  chilled  feeling  in 
every  heart,  that  even  the  warm,  genial  sunshine  of  May  could 
not  clear  away.     And  so  began  the  war  of  subjugation  ! 

The  next  day  the  body  of  Jackson  was  removed  from  Alexan- 
dria to  be  buried,  the  family  leaving  with  it.  He  left,  besides 
his  wife,  three  little  children,  daughters,  the  eldest  about  twelve 
years  old.*  They  are  children  of  exceedingly  attractive  appear- 
ance and  interesting  manners.'  Thus  was  the  Marshal  House 
left  behind.  It  was  taken  possession  of  by  the  Federal  officers, 
and  the  office  used  by  the  Provost  Marshal.  The  house  at  once 
became  a  scene  of  attraction  for  Northern  soldiers  and  newspa- 
per correspondents,  who,  wishing  to  have  each  a  memento  of 
Ellsworth,  began  to  chip  off  the  railing  and  cut  up  the  floor  of 
the  landing  where  he  had  fallen.  •  That  being  demolished— en- 
tirely cut  auxxy— they  attacked  indiscriminately  the  whole  house 
and  furniture.  Some  of  the  citizens  tried  to  save  the  furniture 
by  packing  it  all  in  one  room,  but  the  officers  would  not  protect 
it,  and  on  the  7th  of  June,  house,  furniture,  and  all  were  one 
common  ruin. 

The  body  was  carried  first  to  Fairfax  Court  House,  and  thence  ' 
to  the  old  homestead,  on  the  Georgetown  and  Leesburg  turn- 
pike, where  it  was  interred.  Whether  it  has  been  suffered  there 
to  rest  in  peace,  even  thus  far,  we  cannot  tell.  For  a  long  time 
the  old  lady,  the  widowed  mother  of  Jackson," has  lived  there 
alone.  During  the  time  when  our  forces  held  possession  of  Ma- 
son and  Munson's  Hills,  and  their  advanced  pickets  were  within 
a  short  'distance  of  the  Chain  Bridge,  we  happened  one  day,  with 
a  small  scouting  party,  to  halt  at  one  of  our  posts  (Lewinsville,) 

*  See  Appendix,  Note  No.  4. 


40  LIFE    OF 

to  regale  ourselves  with  some  excellent  peaches,  which  our  "boys" 
had  procured  from  the  neighboring  orchard  of  an  absconded 
Yankee.  While  there,  Mrs.  Jackson  came  up  in  her  carriage, 
accompanied  only  by  a  small  negro  boy,  her  driver,  on  her  way 
from  her  own  house,  which  w;fs  outside  of  our  lines,  to  her  daugh- 
ter's, Mrs.  Stewart's,  which  was  within  them.  The  old  lady 
had  no  pass,  and  was  of  course  halted  by  the  picket,  the  orders 
being  at  that  time  very  strict  in  regard  to  permitting  persons  to 
pass.  Recognizing  her,  and  divining  whither  she  wished  to  go, 
we  informed  the  Lieutenant  in  command  of  the  post  who  she  was, 
and  to  whose  house  Ave  supposed  she  desired  to  ride. 

"  Jim  Jackson's  mother  !"  he  exclaimed.  "  Sergeant,  let  her 
pass,"  and  added,  as  he  turned  round  to  us,  "if  it  costs  me  my 
commission." 

Whether  the  old  lady  has  been  permitted  the  peaceful  posses- 
sion of  her  home  since  the  Yankees  extended  the  lines  of  their 
protection  (!)  around  it,  we  cannot  tell.*  The  torch  has  been 
ruthlessly  applied  to  many  a  lately  peaceful  and  happy  home 
in  that  neighborhood,  and  it  may  be  that  this/ for  the  sake 
of  the  associations  that  encircle  it,  has  met  the  same  fate, 
leaving  but  the  "blackness  of  ashes  to  mark  where  it  stood." 
We  should  not  be  surprised  to  learn  it.  And  that  old  mother 
may  now  be  an  outcast  and  a  wanderer,  as  many  are.  The 
hand  of  violence  may  not  even  have  permitted  the  frame  of 
Jackson  to  remain  in  the  sepulchre  wherein  we  saw  him  "quietly 
inurned."  Their  vandalism  may  easily  have  extended  thus  far. 
The  spirit  which  prompted  the  destruction  of  the  Marshall 
House  for  the  manufacture  of  mementoes,  would  probably  exult 
in  the  procuration  of  the  hero's  bones  as  trophies,  and  the^earth, 
which  once  struck  awe  into  their  hearts,  may  be  condemned,  in 
retaliation  for  the  icy  terror  with  which  it  once  inspired  them, 
hereafter  "to  patch  a  hole  to  expel  the  winter's  flaw"  in  the 
hut  of  some  Northern  soldier  who  shall  have  retired  upon  such 
laurels,  or  the  bones  which  formed  that  stalwart  frame  for  Yan- 
kee children  to  "play  at  loggats  with."  Little  can  their  malice 
harm  him  now  !  His  fame  is  won,  his  glory  is  fixed,  it  cannot  be 
shaken.     Tyranny  hasMone  her  worst  with  him.     The  first  vic- 

*  See  Appendix,  Note  No.  5. 


JAMES  W.  JACKSON.  41 

tim  to  its  lust,  the  first  martyr  to  independence,  he  met,  without 
fear  or  faltering,  the  death  which,  with  him,  was  preferable  far  to 
the  shame  of  suffering  interference  with  his  Sacred  rights. 

When  the  cause  for  which  he  died  has  triumphed,  when  the  in- 
solent invaders  shall  have  been  driven  from  the  sanctuaries  they 
profane,  or  made  to  wash  out  with  their  blood  their  "  foul  foot- 
steps' pollution,"  when  we  shall  have  fully  shaken  off  the  fetters 
which  an  impious  and  inhuman  tyranny  would  throw  around  us, 
when  the  exiles  shall  return  and  repossess  their  own.  and  the 
walls  of  our  temples  be  rebuilt,  then  will  a  mindful  nation  erect 
over  his  remains,  if  they  be  found,  in  their  sacred  places  if  they 
be  not,  testimonials  which  shall  speak  to  the  traveller  and  guest 
the  admiration  and  respect  which  his  heroic  deed  and  death  has 
inspired  for  his  memory  in  the  hearts  of  his  countrymen.* 

Who  can  doubt  the   speedy  triumph   of   chivalry,  gallantry, 

and  resolution  over  treachery,  inhumanity,  and  despotism  ?  May 

God  defend  and  prosper  the  right  ! 

t „ 

*See  Appendix,  Note  No.  G. 


APPENDIX. 


Note  No.  1 — Page  32. — There  have  been  several  different  versions  of  the 
eircumstances  immediately  preceding  the  killing  of  Ellsworth,  but  the  one 
we'have  given  is  the  true  story.  Mr.  Alexander,  the  clerk,  was  asked  by 
Ellsworth,  wben  his  p  irty  entered  tb<  house,  the  way  to  the  flag,  but  gave  no 
answer,  and  they  pas.-in^  on.  be  immediately  sent  word  to  Jackson  by  a  negro 
iwoman,  to  come  to  bim  directly.  Jackson  was  going  without  his  gun,  when 
the  woman  mentioned  that  the  house  was  full  of  soldiers,  who  did  not  look 
like  our  soldiers,  and  this  remark  caused  him  to  take  it.  She  begged  him  to 
leave  it  behind,  and  he  ordered  her  to  cease  her  entreat  i<  8,  adding  very  sternly, 
;'  Don't  say  one  word  about  this  to  Maria," — (his  wife.)  He  then  went  to  the 
office,  and  thence  up  the  steps,  meeting  the  party  as  related. 

To  show  the  daring  resolution  of  the  man,  we  mention  another  fact,  which 
we  only  recently  learned.  He  had  obtained  a  small  four-poundcr  cannon  from 
some  friends  in  Alexandria,  the  one  used  there  almost  from  time  immemorial 
to  fire  4th  of  July  salutes  with.  We  had  frequently  seen  it  in  the  back  yard 
of  his  house,  behind  a  screen,  pointing  to  the  front,  but  knew  not  until  Lately 
informed,  by  a  distinguished  officer  in  the  17th  Virginia  Regiment,  (whom 
Jackson  had  confidently  told,)  that  it  was  loaded  almost  to  the  muzzle,  and 
that  lie  had  gotten  Capt.  Kemper,  of  the  artillery,  to  aim  it  so  as  to  rake  the 
passage  to  the  office,  the  Gllice  itself  and  the  front  entrance,  for  the  purpose 
of  discharging  it  when  the  place  should  be  thronged  with  Yankees,  in  case 
they  should  enter  his  house.  The  officer,  when  told  of  this,  remonstrated 
with  him  on  the  desperateness  of  this  resolution,  as  he  would  most  certainly 
be  killed  for  it.  "Well,"  he  replied,  '« I  have  not  a  long  time  to  live  anyhow, 
and  if  I  can  kill  fifteen  or  twenty  Yankees,  I'll  be  willing  to  die." 

Doubtless,  had  it  not  been  for  the  suddenness  of  the  information,  and  his 
being  asleep  at  the  time,  he  would  have  sold  his  life  more  dearly  than  he  did- 
as  the  effects  that  Vienna  and  Manassas  witnessed  of  Capt.  Kemper's  splendid 
aiming  give  us  every  reason  to  suppose  that.  Jackson's  cannon,  was  well 
directed. 

Note  No.  2 — Page  34. — We  have  heard  nothing  lately  of  Brownell,  whom 
accident  placed  for  a  while  among  the  Northern  rabble  on  the  throne  of  a 
demigod.    A  gentleman  who  saw   him  afterwards  in   Washington,,  describes 


44  APPENDIX. 

him  as  most  ordinary  in  his  appearance,  and  the  true  type  of  a  New  York 
sub-llte-hoy.  He  wore  then,  over  his  uniform  jacket,  a  rough,  black  over-coat, 
had  his  pants  turned  up,  and  a  white  felt  hat  cocked  on  one  side  of  his  head. 
He  talked  i:i  a  sing-song  way,  had  a  down-cast  look,  and  when  he  opened  his 
mouth  to  roll  over  the  stump  of  the  cigar  lie  held  in  it.  you  pouid  perceive 
that  several  of  hi*  front  teeth' were  gone.  He  was  at  that  time  flourishing 
proudly  the  silver-mounted  pistol  which  the  merchants  of  New  York  had  pre- 
sented him  as  a  reward  of  his  u  gallant  action  !"    > 

We  state  in  this  connection  the  report  that  Jackson's  ilag  could  be  seen 
from  the  White  House,  and  that  Ellsworth  had  promised  Mrs.  Lincoln  to  pre- 
sent her  with  it  on  the  evening  of  the  24th  of  May,  which  we  have  every 
reason  to  believe  to  be  true.  We  omitted  to  mention  the  fact  of  Jackson 
having  taken  down  his  ilag  to  add  a  new  star  as  each  succeeding  Slate  se- 
ceded, and  the  wildriess  of  delight  with  which  he  lowered  it,  and  cut  out 
with  Ins  own  hands  die  large  central  Star  when  Virginia  took  her  stand  with 
her  Southern  sisters.  « 

Note  No.  3 — Page  38. — The  barbarity  displayed  towards  the  dead  body  and 
the  cruelty  to  the  living  friends  of  Jack-soif  by  the  Zouaves,  is  really  shocking. 
The  body  was  pinned 'to  the  floor  by  a.  bayonet,  and  no  friend  allowed  to  re- 
move it  for  five  hours  !  His  wife  was  rudely  forced  into  her  room,  his  sister, 
Mrs.  Thomas,  denied  admittance  to  the  house;  but  filially  obtaining  it,  was 
insulted,  and  the  proposal  made  in  her  hearing,  to  cut  the  body  "  into  'bits.3' 
Even  when  the  sorrow  of  his  family  was  venting  itself  jn  tears  and  lamenta- 
tions, some  monster  shouted  to  them  to  "«top  their  howling!*'  They  robbed 
the  corpse  of  the  keys  and  money  which  were  in  the  pocket.  They  ordered 
the  family  to  leave  the  house  and  carry  the  corpse  with  them,  before  5  o'clock, 
threatening  to  cast  it  into  the  street  if  they  did  not,  and  it  w-as  with  difficulty 
the  mayor  and  citizens  of  the. town  could  persuade  them  to  extend  the  tune 
till  the  next  morning  at  day-break.  On  leaving  in  the  morning,  the  hack  and 
hearse  were  frequently  stopped,  and  the  most  inhuman  insults  heaped  on  the 
family  by  wretches  who  thrust  their  heads  through  the  hack  windows,  and 
the  fearful  threats  of  whom  stifled  with  choking  agony  the  grief  of  the  wife, 
the  daughter,  the  sister. 

Note  No.  4 — Page  39. — Amelia,  Alice,  and  Caroline,  a»c  the  names  of  these 
most  interesting  little  girls.  The  family  of  Jackson  has  received  universally 
the  sympathy  of  the  South,  which  has  expressed  that  .sympathy  not  only  in 
word,  but  in  liberal  donations  for  their  benefit.  It  may  be  well  to  state,  how- 
.  ever,  that  the  loss  they  have  sustained,  not  only  by  the  violent  death  of  the 
husband  and  father,  but  in  the  deprivation  of  a  home,  deserves  a  continuance 
«f  these  charities.  The  furniture  of  the  Marshall  House  had  been  purchased 
by  Jackson  for  $7,000,  and  his  wife  has  now  that  debt  also  to  pay,  unless  it 
shall  be  otherwise  liquidated. 

Note  No.  5 — Page  40. — Since  writing  the*  foregoing  we  have  learned  that 
the  mother  of  Jackson  has  been  u  gallantly  captured*"  by  a  crowd  of  .Yankee 
soldiers.     Suspecting  that  she  had  been  sending   food  to  our  pickets  in  her 


APPENDIX.  45 

neighborhood,  relying  for  their  belief  on  the  testimony  of  one  of  her  run-away 

negroes,.'  a  party  went  to  her  house  one  night  and  tried  to  entrap  her  by  pass- 
ing for  Southern  troops.  Sho  discovered  their  treachery,  and  told  them  In 
plain  terms,  what  she  thought  of  them.  A  few  days  after  they  took  her  pris- 
oner, and  forced  her,  (hough  sixty-seven  years  old,  to  walk  several  n.iie.s 
before  they  would  get  a  carriage  for  her.  At  the  same  time  they  took  Mr. 
Moore,  an  old  gentleman,  her  half  brother;  and  Mrs.  Stewart,  her  daughter. 
They  are  now  in  one  of  the  Washington  prisons.  They  took,  all  her  negroes 
whicli  could  he  of  service  to  them,  and  gave  the  others  away.  They  destroyed 
her  furniture,  and  appropriated  a  quantity  of  house-keeping  stores  which  she 
had  laid  u [>. 

NOTE  No.  6 — Page  41. — Tim  respect  and  admiration  the  people  have  for 
the  memory  of  Jackson  have  been  shown  from  the  moment  his  death  was 
known.  When  the  corpse  arrived  at  Fairfax  Court  House,  the  bell  at  the 
Court  House  was  tolled,  and  the  citizens  and  soldiers  en  masse  went  out  to 
receive  the  cortege,  and  meeting  it  about  a  mile  from  the  village,  lined  the 
road  on  both  sides,  and  witli  uncovered  heads, suffered  it  to  pass  through  their 
lines,  then  followed  on  in  solemn  procession.  * 

When  it  arrived  at  his  mother's,  the  place  of  burial,  a  large  crowd  had 
ga there  1  to  receive  it.  The  grief  of  his  eldest  daughter  there  broke  forth  in 
most  pitiable  vehemen  :e.  She  raised  the  head  from  the  coffin,  which  was 
opened  at  her  request,  and  embracing  it  and  uttering  the  most  pathetic  entrea- 
ties', was  with  difficulty  removed.  The  services  were  performed,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  a  regular  minister,  by  Mr.  George  W.  Gurinell,  an  old  church-elder  of 
the  neighborhood.  When  be  had  finished,  be  raised  his  hands,  and  gazing 
into  the  grave,  earnestly  exclaimed,  ".  Would  to  Cod  it  were  my  son  ! :'  The 
ohl  gentleman  has  sine*'  been  impri  toned  by  the  Lincoln  minions. 


We  append  a  selection  from  the  many  verses  in,  which   Jackson's   deed  has 
been  celebrated.     The    fust    is  by   M.   13.   Wharton,    of  South  Carolina,  and  is 


entitled 


STAND  BY  YOUR  FLAG. 

St.ind  by  your  flag  ye  Southern  brave?, 

Ye  hold  it  as  fair  freedom's  trust; 
Swear  that  it  e'er  in  triumph  waves. 

Or  else  you'll  with  it  kiss  the  dust. 
'Tis  yours  by  every  sacred  tie 

Of  honor,  valor,  interest,  bi.th; 
The  hopes  of  millions  'ne.ith  it  lie, 

The  bravest  and  the  beet  of  earth. 


46  APPENDIX. 

Stand  b,y  your  flag'as  Jackson  stood, 

Who  let  the  tyrant's  minions  know 
That  when  it  fell,  his  own  life  blood 

In  its  defence  should  freely  flow; 
That  if  they  would  invasion  mftke 

He  would  alone  begin  the  fray, 
And  for  each  inch  he  dared  to  take 

At  least  an  Ells-icorth  they  should  pay. 

He  loved  his  flag  and  wished  it  saved. 

He  prized  the  beauties  that  it  wore. 
Near  Vernon's  sleeping  Chief  it  waved, 

His  house'the  name  of  Marshall  bore! 
And  hark,  the  sound  of  fife  and  drufn  ! 

In  glittering  files  behold  the  foe  ! 
With  shouts  and  threat'ning  cries  they  come, 

They  halt  \yjth  menaces  below. 

''Down  with  your  flag!"  the  spoilers  cry. 

Oh,  how  his  brave  pulsations  bound! 
Did  he  obey?    His  shots  reply — 

He  brings  his  foeman  to  the  ground. 
But  he  fell  too.    For  country's  sake, 

He  on  her  altar  bleeding  lies  ; 
«   He  sleeps  in  realms  of  bliss  to  wake, 

For  God  accepts  the  sacrifice. 


The  other  is  by  i\  F.,  Augusta,  Ga. 
JACKSON,  OUR  FIRST  MARTYR. 

Not  where  the  battle  red 
Covers  with  fame  the  (.lead  : 
Not  where  the  trumpet  calls 
Vengeance  for  each  that  falls; 
Not  with  his  comrade  dear, 
Not  there  he  fell — not  there. 

He  grasps  no  brother's  hand, 
He  sees  no  patriot  band  f 
Daring  alone  the  foe, 
•  He  strikes,  then  waits  the  blow; 

Counting  his  life  not  dear, 
His  was  no  heart  to  fear. 

Shout,  shout  his  deed  of  glory, 
Tell  it  in  song  and  story  ; 


APPENDIX.  47 

Tell  it  where  soldiers  brave 
Rush  fearless  to  the  grave  p 
Tell  it — a  magic  spell 
In  that  great  deed  shall  dwell. 

Yes,  he  hath  won  a  name 
Deathless  for  age  to  fame  : 
Our  Flag,  baptised  in  blood, 
Away,  as  with  a  flood, 
Shall  sweep  the  tyrant  band 
Whose  feet  pollute  our  land. 

His  martyr-patriot  fall 

Shall  be  a  trumpet  call 

For  all  true  men  to  go 

To  crush  the  invading  foe.  , 

Let  not  his  blood  in  vain 

Cry  from  the  soil  they  stain. 

Then  Freemen  raise,  the  cry, 
As  Freemen  live  or  die. 
Ann,  arm  you  for  the  light, 
His  banner  in  your  sight — 
And  this  your  battle-cry. 
"Jackson  and  Victory!" 


The  following  is  the   card  published  by  Jackson  on   leasing  the  Marshall 
House  : 

.MARSHALL  HOUSE— JAMES  W.  JACKSON,  Proprietor 

Comer  King  and  Pitt  Streets,  Alexandria,  Va. 

Virginia   is   determined,   and   will    yet    conquer   under  the  command  of 
JEFF.    DAVIS. 


We  append  as  a  most  touching  incident  connected  with  this  history,  the 
following  copies  of  newspaper  slips  found  in  Jackson's  pocket  after  his  death, 
and  kindly  furnished  us  by  his  niece,  who  found  them,  and  whom  we  are 
glad  to  number  among  the  most  agreeable  and  interesting  of  our  young 
friends. 

This  young  lady  has  preserved  them  just  as  he  tore  them  from  the  news- 
papers, and  they  tell  a  story  of  the  devotion  and  determination  of  the  man 
which  no  language  can  improve. 


48  APPENDIX. 


LAND  OF  THE  SOUTH. 

BY    A.    F.    LEONARD. 

Lund  of  the  South  !   the  fairest  land 

Beneath  Columbia's  sky! 
Proudly  her  hills  of  freedom  stand, 

Her  plains  in  beauty  lie. 
Her  dotted  fields,  her  traversed  streams 

Their  annual  wealth  renew. 
Land  of  the  South  !   in  brightest  dreams 

No  dearer  spot  we  view. 

Men  of  the  South  !  A  free-born  race, 

They  vouch  a  patriot  line; 
Heady  the  foemairs  van  to  face, 

And  guard  their  Country's  shrine. 
By  sire  and  son  a  haloing  light 

Through  thtfe  is  borne  along  : 
They  "  nothing  ask  but  what  is  right,"' 

And  will  not  suffer  wrong! 


"Many  a  mothers  heart  shall  mourn  her  long  lament  over-the  lifeless, form 
of  a  son  who  shed  his  blood  upon  an  ensanguined  field.  Many  a  wife's  wail 
of  sorrow  shall  be  heard  for  a  husband  torn  by  death's  ruthless  hand  from  her 
bosom.  But  mother,  wife,  your  sons  and  husbands  could  die  in  no  nobler 
eatise  than  in  defence  of  their  homes.  Their  names  will  bo  written  with  an 
iron  pen  on  the  scroll  of  fame,  having  sacrificed  their  lives  on  the  altar  of 
Liberty.  Bards  shall  sing  in  heroic  verse  of  their  deeds  and  sufferings.,  and 
they  will  be  handed  down  to  future  generations,  as  noble  examples  of  devotion 
to  their  country." 


[Copy- right  secured.] 


WEST    &    JOHNSTON, 

145  Main  Street,  Richmond,  Va. 
HAVE  NOW  READY, 

A~  TREATISE  ON  FIELD  FORTIFICATIONS.  Containing  in- 
structions on  the  methods  of  Laying  Out,  Constructing,  Defending, 
and  Attacking  Entrenchments,  with  the  general  outlines ;  also,  of 
the  Arrangement,  the  Attack  and  Defense  of  Permanent  Fortifica- 
tions. By  D.  H.  Mahan,  Professor  of  Military  and  Civil  Engineer- 
ing in  the  U.  S.  Military  Academy  at  West  Point,  N.  Y.  Fourth 
edition.     Revised,  and  enlarged.     Containing  all  the  plates.     Price, 

THE  BATTLE  CALL.  A  Southern  Lyric.  By  E.  V.  W.  (McCord) 
Yernon.  This  is  one  of  the  finest  lyrical  poems  called  forth  by  our 
struggle  for  independence  and  nationality,  from  the  gifted  pen  of 
Mrs.  Vernon,  better  known  as  Mrs.  McCord  in  literary  circles. 
Tln5  -Battle  Call"  has  been  pronounced  by  competent  and  expe- 
rienced critics,  one  of  the  most  vigorous  and  spontaneous  mental  crea- 
tions growing  out  of  the  present  war.     Price,  10  cts. 

Recently  IPnblished, 

SE   AND  CONTRAST.  "  An  Essay  on  the  American  Crisis.  By 
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This  truly  beautiful,  genial,  and  profound  production  of  genius  and 
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who  have  read  it  are  spontaneous  and  unqualified.     It  is  not  only  the 
best,  but  the  most  charming  Southern  book  ever  printed. 
THE  SOUTHERN   SPY.     Letters  on  the  Policy  and  Inauguration 
of   the  Lincoln   War;    written  anonymously  in   Washington,  Rich- 
mond, and  elsewhere.     By  Edward  A.  Poilard,  of  Virginia,  author 
of  "  Black  Diamonds.''     Price,  50  cts. 
A  NEW  and  complete  Map  of  Tennessee  and  Kentucky.     Containing 
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Forts  Donelson  and  Henry.     Price,  $1. 
MAP  of  the  Seat  of  War  in  Virginia.     Price,  $1. 

In  [Press. 

Be  VERE.     A  Story  of  Plebeians  and  Patricians.      By  Henry  W. 

Hilliard,  of  Alabama.     Price,  : 
THE  FIRST  YEAR  OF  THE  WAR.      Composed  from  authentic 

materials;  embracing  all  its  military  movements,  incidents,  romances  $ 

and  extending  from  the  date  of  Lincoln's  Administration  to  the  pe- 
riod of  publication,  with  an  introductory  chapter  of  political  events 
since  the  foundation  of  the  United  States  Government.  With  Maps. 
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